Unfaithful
by chikinita09
Summary: Ginny is going to marry her childhood crush, Harry Potter. On her hen party two weeks before her wedding, something happens between her and Hermione. And soon she realises that becoming Harry's wife isn't the only thing she wants. HG/GW, FEMSLASH, AU/AR
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the Potter World and the characters and places that you recognize. Anything else that you don't is mine. **

**This story is femmeslash in case you missed it in the summary. This takes place a few years after the war, Ginny just turned 20, and Hermione is 22. Before Ginny becomes a professional Quidditch player for the Harpies, she works at a small herbal shop in Diagon Alley. Harry, who is her fiancé, however, is the team captain of a Quidditch team. That's before he settles down, and rejoins the ministry as an Auror. **

**So before this story shifts to canon, this is my own version of what happened before that time. Enjoy! :D**

**WARNINGS: (again) Femslash; AR/AT/AU, no lemon, sort of UST**

**SHIPS: HG/GW, HP/GW, RW/LB, HG/OMC, HP/OFC**

* * *

**Chapter 1 – The Escapade**

"Cheers to the future Mrs. Ginevra Potter!"

Ginny raised her glass in the air, then drowned its content with one gulp. It was the fourth Firewhisky glass that night, right after a few bottles of Butterbeer and one Pumpkin Cocktail. She felt the heat the alcohol caused in her circulatory system instantly taking effect, and she slumped back in her seat, feeling light-headed. Her speech was slurred and face flushed, she was drowsy, and yet she didn't want to stop. The party of her life had just begun.

She hardly could sit straight in her seat. Her forehead was covered by sweat, and her hair was sticking to her skin. She dried the moisture with the back of her hand, and was surprised that she had tears in her eyes, wiping them away, too.

In less than two weeks, Ginny and Harry were going to be married, and Ginny insisted and wished to spend her hen party only with her female best friend, Hermione Granger. Ginny convinced her friend that she wouldn't want any wedding gifts from her; just her spare time spent with Ginny would completely suffice.

The two girls went to Diagon Alley to their regular pub, sat in their favourite booth, where they had celebrated several occasions in the past few years, such as Ginny's twentieth birthday five months ago, where only Ginny's closest friends had been invited.

Back then, Harry Potter was only her boyfriend, best friend, and loyal companion. After some glasses of wine and a romantic picnic under the moonlight, he had asked her to become his wife. Of course, Ginny had been overwhelmed then; she couldn't quite tell if it was due to the wine that heated her up inside, or Harry's romantic gesture, or the overall atmosphere, that had influenced her decision or just because she had been waiting for that day ever since she had set eyes on Harry. But right then and there, it didn't matter. Ginny had flung her arms around Harry's neck, kissed him and answered at once with a 'yes'.

She was sure of having made the right decision. There was no doubt that she loved Harry and that she had loved him for years. He was the perfect match for her. The next morning after telling her family the great news, she went to Hermione's apartment to announce her about Harry's marriage proposal. Ginny couldn't quite tell, but it seemed as though Hermione merely forced herself to a smile when she heard the news, but however managed to take Ginny into her arms; it was a rather half-hearted embrace, a way too feeble, so unlike Hermione when she was happy for Ginny. Hermione's excuse for the lack of empathy for her friend was that she was only tired and stressed from work.

"Ginny, are you alright?" Hermione asked tentatively now, snapping Ginny from her reverie.  
Hermione was sitting next to her, watching her friend with concern, her fingertips rounding the edge of her wine glass. "Maybe you should stop drinking."

"I'm fine," Ginny slurred, leaning a little closer to her friend and putting a hand reassuringly on Hermione's thigh. Ginny had always been very close to Hermione; physical affection was relatively natural between them. But this time, Hermione seemed to be a bit uncomfortable.

"You definitely shouldn't be drinking too much," Hermione persisted, taking Ginny's hand and putting it back on the table. Then she tucked a curl behind her ear and cupped her wine glass with her hands again, sipping at it nervously.

The moment they had entered the pub, Hermione had fallen noticeably silent. Even though in other situations, she would chatter about random, trivial facts and news, about her life and work, rant about Ron, damn the boys to hell, but this time she seemed preoccupied. For some reason, she had been avoiding Ginny's eyes all night, never really making actual eye contact.

Ginny scanned the people on the dance floor, watched them dance and rub their bodies in a provocative manner against each other, and imagined herself dancing like that, too. How ridiculous she would look like, but who cares? The other people were just jumping, or swinging their hands in the air, their moves not even matching the rhythm of the music. The room was dim-lit, and the walls were an ugly orange with a border of pea green along the bottom. Soft beats emanated the boxes above their heads.

She turned back to Hermione. "You are happy for me, aren't you?" Ginny asked after a pause, and not only because she wanted to make conversation. She inclined a hand forward and put it on Hermione's, stroking the back tenderly with her fingertips. "I can't believe I'm getting married soon, can _you_? I'm only twenty, for crying out loud." She laughed, wiping the corners of her eyes dry. "I could have so much fun only a single woman can afford to have, if you know what I mean, yet I'm going to pledge myself to the next best man who proposed to me. How does the saying go again," she continued in almost one breath, "Never advise anyone to go to war or to marry?"

Hermione smiled. "Well, you have been fawning over Harry since you were ten years old. Remember?" Heaving a sigh, Hermione said with almost feigned enthusiasm in her voice, "Of course I'm so happy for you, Ginny. You've found your soul mate in Harry. He's the only one who can handle your personality." Laughing lightly, she retrieved her hand from underneath Ginny's and tucked another curl behind her ear, looking towards the dance floor. As if looking at Ginny was hurting her.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked, "You seemed a bit preoccupied," she voiced out her thought now, shifting closer to her friend and cupped her cheek tenderly. But Hermione flinched at the contact.

Ginny leaned her forehead against her friend's, "Wha's the matter?"

"Nothing." Hermione shook her head hastily and smiled, tears forming in her eyes. "Ginny, I'm just happy for you. That's all. You'll marry the love of your life. Everything's changing so fast. Do you remember your last birthday? Ron got so drunk, he threw up on my lap? That was so gross."

"Yeah, I still remember," Ginny said with a smile, grimacing at the memory, "and his girlfriend of a dunce was so furious when we escorted him to their flat, and blamed us that we didn't take care of him. She was just mad because I didn't invite her to my birthday. The ugly bint!"

Ginny watched Hermione's eyes filling with new tears, and wished she could bite her tongue off for having mentioned Lavender and Ron. Surely, this wasn't the happy memory Hermione meant to talk to about.

"I'm sorry," she apologised quickly. "Please tell me what's bothering you?"

There was a short stillness between the two. Ginny stared into those brown eyes, as though trying to read Hermione's mind. There was an indefinite fear fermenting inside her that the moment she would be married to Harry, she would be losing Hermione. But she couldn't comprehend this indistinct feeling, or why she felt this way. Hermione would always be her best friend. Nothing would ever change that. And she would not lose her.

Pushing her thoughts aside, she smiled mischievously at Hermione and asked, "Hey, d'you wanna dance?"

"What? Ginny, no! I'm definitely not going to…" Hermione looked at Ginny as if she had lost her mind, that made Ginny laugh at her expression. Hermione didn't stand a chance to resist Ginny, as Ginny tugged at Hermione's hand to pull her towards the dancing people.

Once they were on the dance floor, and, losing all her inhibition, Ginny draped her arms around Hermione's neck, her thighs between Hermione's legs. Hermione seemed uncomfortable, her arms awkwardly on her sides, as if not sure where to place them. She looked around, looking self-conscious at the other people. Ginny had to laugh again at her friend's frowning expression.

"Loosen up a little," Ginny said, running a hand down Hermione's backside. "Stop thinking too much!"

Ginny moved to the slow rhythm of the music and swung her torso seductively against Hermione's. Then she turned slowly around and circled her bum against Hermione's front. She took Hermione's hands and placed them on her waist. Her short top exposing her bellybutton, Ginny guided Hermione's hands towards her stomach and placed them on her bare skin.

At last, Hermione began to dance and move her body like Ginny did. Until her hands became independent from Ginny's guiding hold, moving on their own accord, and roaming over Ginny's body, over her belly, her thighs, her back.

Ginny didn't know if it was the aftermath of the mixed alcoholic drinks in her system, or because of Hermione's hot breath on her neck and the tingling sensation Hermione's touches caused in her body. And, once again, she had no idea what the reason was for her behaviour, but whatever it was, it caused Ginny to twist around to face Hermione again. There was one thing that sparked in Ginny's eyes, and she was sure, the same was reflecting in Hermione's: _Lust_.

She knew she shouldn't be in that state of mind towards her friend, but she couldn't control it. Ginny was out of breath, her eyes wandering down to Hermione's glossy, red lips, as though the only part that Ginny could see were those full lips, that Ginny couldn't resist leaning forward and connecting their lips together.

Hermione's lips felt soft and warm, and tasted like cherry, Ginny mused. How much she'd like to taste more. Ginny's eyes widened in shock, how could she even think that? Since Hermione seemed to be holding her breath, not moving, Ginny pulled away to stare at her, concern in her eyes. Hermione looked from being mortified to being flabbergasted, until her expression deflated, and she dropped her gaze.

"Shall we go somewhere else?" Hermione asked, leaning closer with a sly smile, taking Ginny off-guard.

Encouraged at this and without second thoughts, Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her out of the pub.

*'*'*'*

As soon as they reached a somewhat secluded alley, a last ensuring glance up and down the empty street, Ginny pushed Hermione carefully against the wall and pressed her lips upon her. Hermione responded out of reflex, letting out muffled moans, her hands wandering all over Ginny's back, as Ginny arched her body forward for more contact.

Gasping for breath, they both pulled apart, their heavy eyes pleading for more. Ginny kissed Hermione carefully again this time, and asked, "Is this okay, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, kissing her back deeply, causing Ginny to whimper at the back of her throat.

Ginny kissed Hermione along her jaw to her earlobe, then nipped tenderly at it, her hands underneath Hermione's clothes.

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione moaned, leaning her head back against the wall. "Are you sure you want this?"

"Why?" Ginny asked softly in her ear, dizziness flooding her mind. "Shall we go to your place?"

Hermione looked up, clearly surprised. "Hm?"

"Er well, we can't go to mine. Harry's at home," Ginny said, looking apologetically when she noticed Hermione's questioning look. Their faces were only inches away from each other.

"Then what?" Hermione asked, still out of breath, and closed her eyes when Ginny caressed her underneath her shirt. It wasn't that Hermione didn't get the drift, Ginny thought, or didn't she really know what Ginny wanted to do with her? Oh Merlin, she really wanted this. She wanted Hermione so bad.

"Then we cook a meal, Hermione, what else?" Ginny rolled her eyes and giggled, leaning in again to kiss her. Her hands began to work again, caressing the thin pad of Hermione's bra.

"You _are_ aware of what you're doing. Are you, Ginny?" Hermione took small, shallow gulps of air as she spoke, her eyes fluttering shut again.

"Seeing that you're pretty much enjoying it—"

"—No, Ginny," Hermione said, her eyes opening, "I mean about Harry. You are aware of what you're doing?"

Ginny winced inwardly at the sound of Harry's name coming from the girl she was cheating on him with, as though only now awareness about her unfaithfulness dawned upon her. She drew her hands back again, moving them to her sides. Her head was hazy, as though she was staring through a fog. Hermione blushed and shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

Ginny watched as Hermione's hands, which seemed to be moving in slow motion, closing the buttons of her blouse one after the other, and the more of the delicate skin disappeared out of Ginny's sight, the more she felt her heart stinging. As if controlled by an invisible force, Ginny's hand shot forward and grabbed Hermione's arm.

"No, don't, please," Ginny pleaded, her eyes swimming in tears. With a trembling body, she looped her arms around Hermione's neck and kissed her again. She looked into Hermione's eyes and spoke with desperation, and longing in her voice, "Just this once. Let's just forget everything else just this once."

"But…" Hermione trailed off, for once Ginny was grateful that words failed her talkative friend.

Slowly, Hermione returned the embrace and smiled. There was a short contraction of air around them, like being tugged through a tiny hole; they spun on the spot as darkness pressed in upon them. Ginny held on tighter to Hermione, and when she opened her eyes again, the familiar doorframe of Hermione's apartment appeared beside them.

* * *

**A/N: Did it move so fast? Any comment would be nice.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**** - ****Breaking News**

Hangovers had always been Ginny's greatest enemy, especially when she waked* up in bed with her female best friend sleeping peacefully naked beside her. Her headache was almost unbearable, and that nauseating feeling made her want to throw up on Hermione's floor. She would need her Extra Strong Sobering Potion from her bag for emergencies. When she found her discarded bag on the floor, she rummaged in it for the vial, and drank it in one big gulp. Then, she collected all her clothes, got dressed, and at last Apparated home.

She didn't want to enter yet; instead, she leaned against the wall and looked down on her violently shaking hands: with those hands she had touched and pleasured Hermione Granger and simultaneously cheated on her fiancé, Harry Potter.

In the four years of their relationship, Ginny had never had major problems with Harry. He had been a wonderful and caring boyfriend. Both knew they'd someday move together. Things seemed to be going according to the plan when Ginny got her new job at the St. Mungo's Hospital as a nurse and Harry had become a professional Quidditch player a year after he'd defeated Voldemort. And then they'd finally moved together just a year ago.

Even though Harry got enough income that it sufficed for the two of them and the rent for their apartment, Ginny believed that it'd be better to be financially independent from him and share everything in the household.

She had lived together in peaceful harmony with the man she loved—Harry Potter, the famous hero, the platonic love of so many girls and the model to follow for so many boys. Although he was all hers, Ginny felt strangely lonely. In the solitude that had been consuming Ginny over the years, she'd only craved for companionship. Who would've thought that she'd explode and lose control in a way she hadn't expected: with the least expected person? Ginny started to ponder if she would end a beautiful relationship with Harry to start a new one with Hermione.

The door opened and Ginny spun around, startling at the sight of Harry.

"Hey, love, why aren't you coming in?" Harry asked, the warmth and sincerity he emitted causing Ginny to feel guiltier and more shameful about herself; she didn't deserve his kindness.

He had his sports bag and a Nimbus 3000 in his hand. Pulling Ginny with his free arm, he kissed her tenderly on the lips, and said, "Had a nice time with Hermione? I thought you'd come home last night, I was waiting for you."

Never had she thought that cheating would be like this … _burdensome_; even holding her partner's eye-contact had become a complicated task. And there she was, contemplating just what she'd gotten herself into, while having her arms draped around her fiancé's neck, looking into his emerald eyes, and trying all she could to conceal the sin she'd begotten that she hoped wasn't showing through her features.

"You'll get late to work, Harry, we'll talk later," Ginny said, giving Harry another kiss, and smiled. "I'll cook your favourite meal when you come home."

*'*'*'*

Hermione opened her eyes and looked instinctively beside her on the bed; it was empty. Ginny must have left long before Hermione woke up because the bedside was cold. Running a hand through the bed sheet Ginny had slept on, an uncertain feeling suddenly seized her: _emptiness_. But what made her feel more miserable was the fact that she felt enormously _guilty_. How could her heart lose control over her mind and expose her body to such a temptation? How could she ever look at Ginny's eyes again without feeling uncomfortable in her presence? And what about Harry? He'd been Hermione's best friend since first year at Hogwarts, he trusted her; what would he say if he found out his female best friend had slept with his fiancée?

_Maybe I shouldn't attend their wedding,_ Hermione thought and let out a long sigh. _Besides, Ron will be there, too, he's Harry's best man ... and he'll come with his girlfriend._ Everything would be just an awkward encounter.

The time Ron had broken up with Hermione two years ago was the hardest ever she had in her entire life. Lavender Brown was the other woman; ironically Ron's reason for leaving wasn't because he had fallen in love with Lavender, but because he had fallen out of love with Hermione. Rumours spread around like wildfire that he'd dated Lavender long before he had broken up with Hermione. It should've been really obvious then, it really should have, she should've noticed the moment he had stopped pressuring her to engage in sexual intercourse with him. But she had been naïve, she had been blind, and she had loved him.

Long time had Hermione wept for Ron. But Ginny had been there for her, every single day right after Ron's leaving. The more memories of Ron were purged from her mind, the more they had been replaced with happier ones with Ginny on her side. If it hadn't been because of Ginny, maybe Hermione would never have moved on from Ron. Tears were pricking the back of her eyes again, but she forced herself not to cry.

There was a knocking on the main door that made Hermione jump to her feet. She grabbed her bathrobe and put it on, combing her dishevelled hair with one hand, while the other held her bathrobe closed together.

She opened the door and standing in the doorframe was the familiar face of her ex-boyfriend, Ron.

"Hi, Hermione," Ron said, a weak smile drawing his freckled face.

"Ron? W—What…" She took in the image of him with a deep breath, and let her still sleepy mind register it. He had grown a few inches, had ear-length hair, and the shirt underneath his robe defined the traces of a muscled body. Seeing him standing right there on her doormat after what seemed like a lifetime, made Hermione want to almost forget and forgive him the two years of heart-wrenching time and sleepless nights she had been through because of him.

But just almost…

Ron leaned forward and took Hermione into his arms, holding her tight for a short moment and then released her before Hermione could return the embrace.

He started a casual conversation as though they'd only had a fight about Hermione's favourite glass that Ron accidentally had broken, and now he didn't think it was necessary to apologise. "I was on the way to my parents' house and thought to drop by here first and, well, say hello," Ron said uncomfortably. "Can I come in? Did I wake you up? You look like you've just gotten out of bed."

Before Hermione could give her answer, Ron had already entered. He didn't take off his cloak but strode towards the living room with familiarity and looked around with interest. He stopped in front of the chimney sill, where a few picture frames were resting, and examined them.

"You've changed a lot in your apartment since I last was here," Ron pointed out, his chin directed towards the picture frames. "I don't see a photo of me anymore."

"You haven't seen the large poster of you above my bed yet. My remembrance of the happy memories we've shared, especially when you left me for some shag with another woman," Hermione shrugged, crossing her arms.

Hearing Hermione talking in such a language caused Ron to chuckle and shake his head, "_Shag_… Never believed you could use such a dirty word, Hermione."

"You obviously don't know me well, Ron," Hermione said distantly, her eyes on a moving snapshot of herself, Ginny and Harry, from last year's Christmas, all three smiling brightly and laughing.

Looking back at Ron she noticed he was scanning her up and down with his eyes, perhaps imagining the hidden skin underneath the robe she'd never allowed him the pleasure to touch. She felt her cheeks heating up and made sure that her body parts were still covered by her bathrobe, pulling here and there to keep it in place.

"How come you thought of visiting me?" Hermione said, pacing towards her couch and taking a seat.

"You never replied to my owls," Ron said uncertainly and took a seat on the sofa opposite to Hermione. "But, well, I had a feeling you were mad, so I understood."

"Oh, you had a _feeling_ I was mad," Hermione exclaimed. Ron blinked.

"What do you want, Ron? Why are you really here?"

"Well," Ron started, rubbing his neck, and Hermione sensed that her ex-boyfriend had something more to say than just a simple 'hello'. He looked the same like two years ago when he had confessed her that he had another girlfriend and would leave Hermione for that reason.

One thing was for sure, he wasn't here to apologise.

"Hermione, before I go to my family, I wanted you to be the first to know the news," Ron said solemnly, avoiding Hermione's eyes. "Lav – Lavender is, she's—she's pregnant," he looked up for the first time. She had never seen him so vulnerable. Yet, she didn't feel pity for him.

"Oh, I assume you're the father?" Hermione said, her smile almost convincing. She thought that Ron was just trying to make one of his jokes that wasn't at all funny.

"There's no doubt on that." Ron gave an earnest smile, and then looked away. His hands were shaking.

The only noise that was noticeable in the background was the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the throbbing of her speeding heartbeat. Why did this surprise Hermione so much? For Merlin's sake, he'd been _sleeping_ with that woman!

"Y—You show up after two l-long years with the news that you're going to be the father of Lavender's child?" Hermione spluttered suddenly.

"It surprised me, too. She's been pregnant for three months," Ron croaked, heaving a long sigh before he continued, "I thought to tell you first before my parents. Hermione, it's not that I didn't care for you. I've been a stupid git, what I did to you was … mean. Hope you can forgive me."

"You thought what you did was… _mean?_" She tried to laugh. "What makes you think so?"

Ron swallowed and smiled hopefully. "You forgive me, then?"

Hermione's mouth parted slightly, then closed again, as though she was struggling to find a suitable curse she could throw at Ron that would at least ease the pain she felt inside. But she couldn't think of any that was strong enough. Ron was just sitting there, waiting for a miracle for him to be forgiven.

"Just leave, Ron, please," Hermione finally said, and even though she didn't want to cry, the tears were already running down her cheeks uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron muttered. "I truly am. What I've caused you … I – I didn't –"

"—Leave me now!" Hermione yelled. She rose to her feet, ran to her bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Ron hadn't changed at all.

*'*'*'*

The breaking news just hit and surprised everyone at The Burrow. When Ron requested a family meeting, Ginny already guessed by just reading her brother's pale and anxious appearance, that it was going to be about him and Lavender.

Ginny had Apparated to Hermione's apartment right after lunch. She knocked on the door a few times and then heard some cluttering and rumbling from the other side, before it opened and a dishevelled-looking Hermione standing in the doorway appeared. She had her hair tied up to a plait with some curls dangling loosely from its clasp. She was wearing a very fitting jean short and a sleeveless white top. Though Ginny wasn't really fond of Muggle clothing, she had to admit that Hermione looked pretty _sexy_ in her outfit.

But drooling over Hermione wasn't the purpose of her visit. She wanted to talk. By examining Hermione's exhausted feature and the sorrow lined underneath her eyes, Ginny thought that consoling her would be a helpful gesture as well.

"Hey," Ginny said, "Ron's at The Burrow. He said he'd been here first…"

"Yes, come in."

Ginny could see a tiny twitch on the corner of Hermione's mouth.

"How d'you feel?" Ginny inquired, entering the apartment; she noticed piles of books on the floor, recognised what Hermione once mentioned as a Muggle typing machine, stacks of papers, folders in different colours, Hermione's collection of dictionaries, lexica and other stuff. Ginny peered puzzled at her friend, who took a wiping mop into her hand and climbed up a timbered stool near the bookshelf in her living room.

"I'm fine," Hermione replied with a constant smile, starting enthusiastically to clean the upper parts of her bookshelves.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked, taking off her cloak.

"House chores."

"I know." Ginny rolled her eyes. "But why in the Muggle way? You have a wand, Hermione."

"I needed something to do for a change, because … you probably know already," Hermione said briefly, scrubbing a spot in the shelf rather fiercely.

While watching her standing with her long, slender legs on the stool, like hypnotised, Ginny motioned beside her friend to admire the flawless skin in proximity. She didn't notice Hermione was talking to her, her voice distant from Ginny's ears.

Scenes from the last night's event streamed back to her mind, as she remembered the touch of Hermione's soft skin when she roamed her hands over it and the feeling of her flesh, which was still lingering on Ginny's lips. Hermione's incoherent sounds of pleasure were still echoing in Ginny's ears.

It would have been so easy to just turn away from those sexy legs, but for some strange reason, Ginny couldn't. Instead, she took the time to study that perfect skin, took the time to roam her eyes over her curve.

She looked up at the side of Hermione's face; her lips were moving fast, and it seemed like she was talking to the shelf, her free hand moving frantically in the air. How could Hermione act as though nothing had happened between them, as if she didn't even seem to care? Hermione's only concern now seemed to be Ron, and strange as it was, Ginny felt a sharp stab of ridiculous and unreasonable jealousy towards her own brother.

"…and that was just so typical Ron," Hermione finally said, breaking into Ginny's resentfulness. "What do you think, Ginny?"

"Think about what?"

"Weren't you listening?" Hermione said and looked down on Ginny.

Focusing her attention on the conversation again, Ginny stared back at Hermione, who was waiting for an answer. "I – I was. You mean about Ron?" she guessed. Hermione put a hand on Ginny's shoulder for support to move down from the stool she was standing on, then for a moment when she stepped on the ground both girls were faced to each other, with Hermione's hand still resting on Ginny's shoulder. Ginny wondered if Hermione's heart was beating as fast as her own; she lowered her head in an effort to regain some control.

Turning away, Hermione moved the stool aside and put down the wiping mop on it. "Well, yes. D'you think he'll marry her?" She kept up the casual tone to overplay the awkwardness that seemed to tense up between them, and Ginny could've sworn that Hermione's face was tinged pink before she looked away.

"Maybe." Ginny shrugged.

Hermione disappeared in her kitchen while keeping on talking so that Ginny found it hard to catch the words. There was cluttering of glasses and the cupboard being opened and closed, before Hermione reappeared with a plate of cookies in her hands and two glasses of pumpkin juice.

Hermione offered her a cookie, and Ginny leaned forward from where she was standing to take one. Hermione took a seat on her couch, her long legs crossing, while Ginny solely forced herself not to stare at them again. She moved to the chimney sill, watching the picture frames instead.

"Ron seemed to have learned to love Lavender," Ginny said, biting on her cookie. "He would've wanted you to be happy, too."

"For him?" Hermione huffed, trying desperately to keep a calm voice. Ginny was sure Hermione was still affected because of Ron; she just kept her anger subdued.

"Not only. Ron would've wanted you to be happy with somebody else." Nonchalantly, Ginny ran a finger over the chimney sill.

"How come that the ones I – I _love_ are … always _snatched_ away from me?" came Hermione's frustrated sigh.

Ginny took another bite of her cookie, but did not face her friend. "Nothing is hopeless, Hermione."

Moving and smiling in the picture, were Harry, Ginny and Hermione. It was the only snapshot since they were young where Ron wasn't included. It was taken in the Christmas holiday where Ron took Lavender the first time to The Burrow, and Harry and Ginny visited Hermione in her apartment in Diagon Alley, because she didn't want to see Ron.

Ginny watched herself in the frame, with Harry and Hermione on her sides; the moment Harry gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek, Hermione's feature deflated. There was a hint of longing in her look, but the look wasn't directed at Harry. Then Ginny turned to face Hermione and draped an arm around her waist, and there was a smile on the brunette's face again. They exchanged a glance that made Ginny lean closer to the frame. She couldn't read the emotions on their faces though, because Harry had then tugged playfully at Ginny's arm, looping his arms around her waist from her back.

"_'The ones I love are always snatched away from me,'_" Ginny whispered to herself, her eyes growing wide, repeating what her friend had just said.

Maybe the photograph hid things Ginny was never aware of, but had been there all the time. However, she didn't want to jump to conclusions without being sure.

With a sudden movement, she rounded on Hermione, who was nibbling her cookie thoughtfully.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked carefully, holding up her cookie, "did you bake this yourself?"

"Er … yes, why?" Confusion was drawn to her face, she slightly frowned at Ginny. "Don't you like it?"

"No, of course I do," Ginny smiled, speaking softly. "I'm only wondering if you could … imagine baking these cookies just for me for the rest of your life."

Hermione hesitated for a moment and threw a confused look at Ginny. But then she returned a meaningful smile and nodded.

And that completely sufficed for Ginny to know by now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**** - ****Baking and Kissing**

"Well," Hermione said after a while, "eat as many cookies as you want. I baked them just before you arrived." Ginny took a seat beside Hermione, really close to her this time as though she'd just overcome her inner battle, and Hermione shifted uneasily on the cushion. She always talked about random things when she felt strangely nervous. "I – I got the recipe from my Mum. She said I should try it out. Did I mention it's a Muggle recipe? Anyway, I wasn't actually expecting a visitor today, but then there was Ron. I don't consider him as a visitor, though –"

Hermione watched Ginny shoving the last piece of the cookie into her mouth, watched her licking clean the very tip of her thumb and index finger. Her pink tongue appeared from between her lips to moisten them, and Hermione didn't even know why she was following that motion. She felt her throat going dry and rustled; she grabbed the glass of orange juice, then took a big gulp from it and swallowed hard.

"Hermione, we have to talk," Ginny said, lifting one corner of her lips.

"W--We _are_ talking," Hermione uttered, placing nervously the glass back on the table.

"No, I mean about –" While speaking, Ginny looked hesitantly towards the picture frames on the chimney sill; staring back at Hermione, the redhead's eyes gleamed with uncertainty, and she went on, "– about what happened … last night. It's not that I don't care about Harry. But what we had –"

As Hermione's mind was whirling, she could almost foretell what Ginny would be expecting now from her; this was what she'd feared all the while since she woke up, and what she'd been avoiding to discuss with Ginny. She didn't want to listen at all because of the vague feeling that engulfed her from within; _fear of rejection_. For some indistinct reasons she feared that Ginny would be expecting her to just forget what happened the night before. Ginny had her fun with her, that was all. It was just _nice sex_ between _two friends_ under the influence of alcohol. So why would Hermione expect more from it? In the end, Ginny was going to marry Harry.

Chest heaving rapidly at the thought, Hermione snorted; before she heard Ginny's _favour,_ she'd interfere, to make it less hurtful for herself. She spoke out what she was thinking in mind, "We had a few drinks too many. I know it meant nothing, and yes, I promise not to tell anyone." Hermione turned to Ginny, raised a hand, just in shoulder level of her, the other crossing her heart. She sealed her promise.

Ginny's eyes flickered at her, looking slightly hurt and confused; she muttered, "It—It mean n-_nothing_ to you, Hermione?"

This wasn't what Hermione had expected Ginny would respond. Returning the confused expression, Hermione replied to lighten up the situation, "It meant nothing to _you_. _You're_ about to be married. Let's just consider that as an aftermath-of-the-party event, you know, what people usually do on their bachelorette's parties … well, before they—" Ginny wasn't smiling; instead, she lowered her head and stared at her lap, lips quivering slightly, while Hermione finished her sentence, "—before they marry. Ginny?"

"This is what it meant to you, then?" she exclaimed, eyes gleaming with anger. _"Just a one-night-stand?_ I'm sorry, I've got to go," Ginny said annoyed, raising to her feet.

"What's wrong?" Hermione watched her in bewilderment as Ginny got to her feet and hurried out. Then, Hermione ran after her before she reached the front door and grabbed her arm. But Ginny didn't look at her.

"I was aware of what I was _risking_, Hermione," Ginny mumbled, staring sideways. "I was aware of what I was doing, of my unfaithfulness. How could you assume it meant nothing to … me?"

Hermione sighed; she could feel from her grip Ginny's arm shaking slightly.

"Oh, Ginny, sorry." Hermione took Ginny into her arms, holding her tight and soothing her. "It was just a stupid assumption. What we did was wrong, Ginny." She felt Ginny's tension leaving the moment Hermione wrapped her in her arms.

Ginny didn't answer, only nodded, and rather changed the topic quickly, saying through her sniffing, "Would you like to come to our place? Harry'll be glad to see you. We'll cook dinner together and you can eat with us."

"What?" Hermione blinked, slightly confused for a second. "Ginny, I _can't._"

"Why not?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked in disbelief at her friend. "Isn't it obvious why I can't? After that little escapade we had, I can't just show up in your apartment, cook for your fiancé, and have dinner with him as though nothing happened."

"Oh," Ginny said, looking thoughtfully. "And what if we just cook together and before Harry comes home, you leave? He'll come home around eight o'clock."

"Hm…"

"Though I'm sure he'll wonder why you didn't stay for dinner. Come on, Hermione, we haven't cooked together for months." Ginny pulled at Hermione's arm, looking at her with such pleading eyes that Hermione couldn't resist accepting the invitation. After all, she needed to divert her thoughts; Ron's breaking news about Lavender's pregnancy was still stinging her heart and mind.

*'*'*'*

Hermione had promised to bake the same cookies again on Ginny and Harry's place while Ginny was cooking the dinner, Harry's favourite meal, casserole à la Weasley. Hermione was stirring the chocolate dough, then dipped her fingertip in to taste it.

"Hm, tasty," said Hermione. "I should add some more almonds. I think you'll love it."

"I will." Ginny turned to her. "Let me taste it."

Hermione passed her over the bowl. Ginny raised her brows, indicating with a pokerfaced expression that her hands were busy with peeling the potatoes. "You see, I'm busy and can't hold that."

Once Hermione realised what Ginny had in mind, she dipped her fingertip again in the dough, and held it up to Ginny's mouth.

"Here," Hermione giggled playfully. Ginny's lips slightly parted; she arched forward and closed them around Hermione's fingertip, licking off gently the sweet chocolate dough from it. Hermione felt like electricity running from her finger over her arm to her stomach.

"Delicious," Ginny purred, giving a contented smile.

No one said another word. They must have been staring at each other for awhile before Ginny leaned in, slowly, towards Hermione. And Hermione knew what was going to happen next. Unless she did something right now, turn away or anything, so that they would stop and stay being the two friends who happened to be together on a nice afternoon day cooking in the kitchen, so that their mistake like the last night's event wouldn't be repeated.

Hermione did nothing.

And their lips met.

Ginny was kissing her.

Slowly at first, until Hermione found her lips responding on their own, her hand cupping Ginny's face, brushing her cheek tenderly with her thumb. There was still time to pull away, to stop what was going to be a second big mistake in their friendship, but when Ginny slid her tongue into Hermione's mouth, kissing her ever so lustfully, filling her veins with heat, what was all that about pulling away?

Before either of them knew it, Ginny had pressed Hermione against the perch of the counter, one hand on the back of Hermione's head, while the other had a firm grasp on her bum. Hermione was doing all she could to stay upright, holding on to Ginny, giving muffled moans against her friend's mouth. Ginny was fumbling at the button of Hermione's trousers, but when Hermione heard her zipper being unzipped, she slightly broke the contact.

"No, we—we can't do this," Hermione panted, though her body couldn't let go. Ginny was persistent. Hermione wasn't at all sure if she was even listening, because Ginny had already slightly pulled down her trousers, revealing the waistband of Hermione's knickers. With her other hand, she was caressing Hermione's breast, so that Hermione had difficulties protesting, making it harder for her to pull away from Ginny.

"Gin—Ginny, we're in your ap –"

Whatever Hermione was going to say, it was replaced by her own moan as Ginny dived down and started to shower her with kisses on the midline of her stomach, dipping her tongue gently over her bellybutton, straying further downwards, until she reached her pelvic bone, just on the edge of the waistband of her knickers.

As through someone else's eyes, Hermione watched the redhead kissing and nipping at her skin. Ginny was staring at her with a hungry glint in her eyes, hands fumbling on her waistband now, exposing more and more of the private place of her body. Hermione ran her hands through that silky red hair; eyes fluttering close as the desire for more grew with every kiss.

Neither of them heard the key being turned in the front door, nor the door being closed with a click, as Harry's voice hollered just from the other side of the kitchen door, calling from the corridor.

"Ginny, love, I'm home."

And both gasped in terror and shock at the sound of Harry's voice, Ginny rising quickly to her feet, Hermione quickly closing her trousers, both faces still flushed. And then Harry entered the kitchen.

"Hey," he said merrily to Ginny, who was standing with her back to Hermione. "Why didn't you answer? Thought you weren't at home."

Hermione didn't look up at him out of shock and guilt; she only noticed from the side of her eye that Ginny moved towards him, embraced him and kissed him. And the sound of their wet lips departing made Hermione's insides cringe.

"Hey, Hermione, I'm glad you came over," Harry said. She didn't notice he was now standing in front of her, and then he embraced her brotherly. "I wanted to have a word with you, anyway … Regarding Ron. He's told me."

"I'm happy for him, I'm fine. Really." Hermione said quickly, but was still refusing to look at him. She was scared that Harry would read her mind by just staring into her eyes and see what Hermione had seen just minutes ago: Ginny down on her, showering her with lustful kisses. And what more about last night?

"I'm only worried about you, Hermione," Harry told her.

"Harry, you're early today. How come?" Ginny intervened, giving a nervous smile.

"I postponed the training for tomorrow morning and thought to surprise you today." He winked at Ginny and grinned.

"Surprise successful." Ginny tried to smile. "You should now take a shower, Harry, you're sticky. Hermione and I will finish the cooking."

Hermione watched Ginny shooing Harry out of the kitchen and closing the door behind him. She leaned against it, exhaling noisily, with shock still etching her face, surely caused by the fact that it had been pretty close to be caught by her fiancé.

*'*'*'*

After they'd eaten their dinner together, Ginny flicked her wand and directed the plates, glasses, and bowls towards the kitchen door and disappeared there for a while to rinse and clean up. Hermione was left with Harry in the living room and watched a Muggle movie with him. She gazed at him with suspicion, as he threw reassuring glances towards the kitchen door, then rummaged in his pocket and presented a tiny black velvet casket to Hermione.

"Have a look at this," Harry whispered; he opened it and handed it out to her.

"Ooh," gasped Hermione, staring awed at the ring, and clasped a hand to her mouth. Little diamonds were embedded around the white-gold band, sparkling when Hermione turned it in her fingers. She had never seen something so precious. "Harry, it's wonderful. Are these real diamonds?" Her eyes were transfixed on them. "Oh well, of course. It must've cost you a lot, I suppose."

"The price doesn't matter and was actually affordable. Ginny doesn't want too expensive stuff. There's an inscription in the inside – mine and Ginny's name," Harry said with pride and excitement. "D'you reckon she'll love that?"

"Definitely." She stared up at him and noticed his distressed expression. "Why?"

"Could you do me a favour?"

"Sure," Hermione nodded.

"Ginny really can't decide which wedding gown to buy. I told her to just pick one she likes and the price doesn't matter."

"She's really picky, isn't she?" Hermione felt sympathy for Harry. Harry nodded and smiled.

"Our wedding is in less than two weeks, Hermione. I know I've been busy all the time, and I couldn't really help her with the preparations for the ceremony."

"Which means –"

"Hermione," Harry sighed desperately, running a hand through his unruly hair, "please, just help her to choose a gown. That's all. I'll pay for the rest, for the arrangements. Although I know Ginny wants to plan everything on her own."

"Alright, Harry," Hermione nodded and gave a faint smile. Her hand was slightly clutched around the casket.

"I owe you. Time's running. Our wedding date is set," Harry mumbled and shook his head in disbelief, leaning back in the sofa. "It's getting pretty stressful: Quidditch practices … the upcoming championship … the wedding … and all that."

"_Time's … running,_" Hermione repeated in a whisper, not listening anymore to Harry, with her eyes fixed on the diamond ring again.

Hermione felt frozen all of a sudden; she was happy for Harry and simultaneously was jealous of him.

When her sight started to blur, only then she realised that she had tears in her eyes. It was as though she had just been diagnosed with a deadly disease and the Healer had given her only a couple of days to live. She wondered what in the world would happen to her, when Ginny gave her answer to Harry when they stood in front of the altar in less than two weeks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Losing Control**

Ginny roused from sleep due to the clattering noises Harry was making when he packed his sport bag with his Quidditch equipment. Running a hand through her dishevelled hair, Ginny told herself that her beloved fiancé would be less busy as soon as this season's championship was over, that this way they could _reunite_ to refresh their relationship by spending some quality time together, and maybe be happy together, as it used to be. However, it almost seemed like it would never be the same again.

Though this time, surprisingly, Harry's forthcoming absence was becoming an indispensable desire that she was now anticipating for, because only then Ginny would have free reign to unleash her forbidden secret affair with... _STOP IT RIGHT THERE! _she rebuked herself, pressing her eyelids shut, as if to stop the images of that other particular woman from invading her mind. Just the thought of _her_ caused Ginny's stomach to tingle uncontrollably.

Bed sheet entangled around her waist, Ginny, squinting from her bed to Harry, tilted her head towards him. She mumbled against her pillow, "Already up? Merlin! It's only—" she glanced at the clock on the bedside table, "—5:30am, Harry!"

"Yeah, I know, but the match is in Versailles, love. We'll have a little warm-up practice before the game starts. I told you about that yesterday."

"Oh, right. But so early, your job really sucks," Ginny whined, hiding her face underneath her pillow. "Fortunately, I didn't make Quidditch my profession."

She heard Harry walking towards her and sitting on the cushion beside her. "I love my job," he said defensively with no underlying emotion in his voice. He meant what he said, and for some reason it stung Ginny a bit. Was she jealous of his job? She was in no position to feel this way, for Merlin's sake! She was cheating on him with another woman, for crying out loud!

Ginny stirred to look at him, watching him when he put on his socks and shoes. She said in a low voice, drawing circles on the cushion, "I know, probably more than you love me."

"Hey, hey, don't say that, " Harry said. "My job's only second priority, and is only important because I'm saving for our future."

Ginny sat upright, covering her bare chest with the blanket. She could not help but make a scene, just to taunt him, just to know he was still there, that he still cared for her. "Why can't you have an ordinary job like any ordinary person and spend more time at home … with me?"

She knew Harry didn't find it congenial when she was acting like a little, sullen girl with her mouth pouting at him and arms crossing, but she couldn't control it. Somehow, she felt slightly angry with him, and the only comfort that could make her feel better was Harry telling her he would not leave today and instead spend the day with her. It would change everything. It would fix everything. It would mean a lot to her.

But nothing the like came. His job was first priority—not _her_! Rubbing a towel through his still wet hair, Harry glanced at her and made an earnest look. "Ginny, the games are important and my team needs me."

"As _I_ do," Ginny said pleadingly, putting a hand on his. "What about me, Harry? Aren't _I_ important to you, too?"

Harry scooped her into his arms and kissed her; Ginny kissed him back but rather unenthusiastically. After the passionate kisses with Hermione, Harry's suddenly felt so _strange_.

"I promise to have a romantic dinner with you tonight," he said, smiling against her forehead. He was stroking Ginny's hair, breathing in it. "When you go to Diagon Alley today, tell Hermione I said hello."

This took Ginny off-guard, but her heart skipped a beat or two by the mention of Hermione's name. "Huh? Why?"

"I told her to take you shopping today. The whole day. She'll help you choose your wedding gown. She promised me." He grinned at her. "She expects you before lunch time."

"Er…sure," Ginny said casually, shrugging, although her heart made a cheerful somersault at the news and at the thought of spending a whole day with Hermione. And just with Hermione.

At least in this regard, Harry gave Ginny what she wanted.

*'*'*'*

Ginny Flooed to Hermione's apartment shortly before lunch; she was excited to see Hermione and in some ways not because Hermione was going to help her find a wedding gown for her. Arriving at the place she had aimed, the simple furnished flat with the eggshell coloured walls and round windows, she found an open book on the living room table, a mug beside it; Hermione, however, was out of sight.

"Hermione?" Ginny called out loudly, stepping from the hearth. She could hear water running and a humming melody coming from the neighbouring room. Maybe Hermione was in the bathroom, getting herself ready, so Ginny went towards the source of the noise.

The bathroom door was open. Ginny's eyes widened when she found Hermione with only a towel covering her private parts. She was sitting on the edge of the bath tub, one leg angled on the basin edge while she was applying lotion on it, running her hands delicately up and down her tanned skin. Her hair was freshly wet from the shower, and water was glistening on her shoulders.

Hermione looked up at Ginny with surprise and curiosity, the latter of which was a rather common look of her face. "Hi, Ginny;" she said in greeting, as a sly smile appeared on her lips, "Do you like what you see?" she joked, causing a jolt of electricity run down Ginny's belly and further down. "Just kidding. You're a bit early." She applied new lotion on her other leg, the movement was hypnotising. "I thought of cooking us our lunch before you arrive. But oh well, let's just go eating somewhere else. What do you think?"

There she was, teasing her, Ginny thought and sighed, as if what they had done together was just some childish game with no serious consequences. Her bare skin was more exposed than it was yesterday; very close though to how Hermione had looked like when _it_ actually happened. Once again, Ginny was drawn to those legs and thighs and smooth skin her hands craved to touch and her lips hungered to kiss.

She needed to get out of there before she lost control again.

"Ginny?" Hermione said again when Ginny failed to respond.

Coming back to sanity, Ginny shook her head to get rid of the sexual desire for her friend. What was going on with her? Her face felt enormously hot, she only hoped her mouth wasn't hanging open like she feared. "Oh, yeah, let's eat outside. Um…I— I'll wait in the living room for you till you're ready."

*'*'*'*

"So, I think we can go now," Hermione said when she emerged from her bedroom. She was wearing a knee-length black skirt and a whitish pink turtle neck. Compared to her, Ginny was a poor-dressed tramp with her simple robe over her blue jeans and green polo. "I'll only take fifteen Galleons with me; I don't want to spend too much money today," Hermione said, rummaging in her purse.

"Oh no, no, Hermione," Ginny said, holding up her hand. "Harry gave me extra money; he told me it'd be his treat for you. You should buy your gown, too, if you don't have one yet. Since you're the bridesmaid, remember? Rehearsal is two days before the wedding, as I told you. You have to attend."

"But Harry doesn't need to treat me." Hermione said, blushing. "Or to _bribe_ me just to go shopping with you. I love going shopping with you. I wonder why you didn't ask me yourself. I would have definitely helped you with choosing. Though it's a pretty tight schedule you set there for the rehearsal and dress fitting and all, you know."

"Harry and I were both busy with work, and my mum hasn't been feeling well to help me. But I'm sure it's going to work out," Ginny said, biting her lower lip. She wasn't sure anymore if the wedding now was really what she wanted. "Besides, Harry insisted. He told me to have lunch with you in a fine restaurant and have a wonderful afternoon—with, er… _shopping_. Just the two of us."

"Harry said that?" Hermione asked sceptically, raising a brow.

"Yeah," Ginny said and gave an innocent look.

"Hm, but I only can stay until five," Hermione said, glancing at the clock above the chimney. It read eleven fifteen. "I have an important appointment today. Remember, Matthew Johnson? He said we have to discuss some issues regarding the case he's working on."

It wasn't the fact that Hermione had another _date_ planned for today that was supposed to be theirs, Ginny and Hermione's day, that made Ginny's blood suddenly boil and her heart writhe as though Hermione herself had tore it out of her ribcage. But the way of _how_ Hermione had said it—her voice full of excitement and anticipation.

"M—Matthew? You mean that bloke who fancies you? B—But I thought he was in Canada now for investigation," Ginny asked, trying hard to hide her true emotions.

"Yes, but he's back, and just arrived yesterday. I received an owl from him, and he wished to see me," Hermione said with gleaming eyes; she was applying lipstick and putting perfume on her neck. After that she watched her reflection in the handy mirror. "No, he doesn't fancy me," she added nonchalantly, but Ginny noticed that her friend's face shaded crimson. "He said we'll meet for business' matters, and that it was very important. I'm merely interested in the case he's working on."

"So, that's why you're dressed up like _that_," Ginny said with distaste in her voice. Hermione looked too _appealing_ in Ginny's opinion, but when her sexy look was for some drooling bloke, not worth Hermione's attention, then why should Ginny let her friend wear an outfit like that? Her good mood evaporated in midair the moment Hermione mentioned Matthew's name.

"Ginny, he's just a colleague. It's not that we're having a date or something," Hermione said in defence, almost sounding like Harry this morning. Therefore, out of reflex of being left out and abandoned again, Ginny made a scene.

"Then why don't you change your sodding skirt? It doesn't fit you; you look _fat_ around your thighs."

Hermione looked down on her and screeched, "_Fat_? I look really fat?"

"Yeah." Ginny scrunched up her nose. Even though she knew she was being obnoxious and childish, she couldn't help it. She walked up to her friend and placed a hand on her thigh, slightly squeezing it. "Look, if you wore pants, it wouldn't be too obvious."

For a moment Ginny expected Hermione would surrender in defeat and change her mind about meeting Matthew, but instead she said, "I don't think Matthew will mind if I have fat thighs or not," she said with hurt in her voice. "You really think I have fat thighs?" Hermione asked again, easing her skirt further down to hide them.

"If I'd say change your outfit because you look bloody alluring for a date with Matthew, would you do it?"

"Oh." Hermione blushed and looked away. "You think I look _alluring_? No one's ever said that to me before."

"Yes, you do," Ginny said hesitantly, stepping closer to brush her hand over Hermione's left thigh. She didn't want Hermione for anyone else, but Hermione wasn't hers to keep, either.

"Matthew's gonna be drooling over you, I'm sure."

*'*'*'*

Ginny went with Hermione to Bethshilda's Boutique, the new bridal shop in Diagon Alley. The store was immense, with a great selection of wedding dresses and accessories for witches.

"Oh, Ginny, you look gorgeous in that gown," Hermione exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with admiration. The gown was white and suited Ginny's complexion perfectly. It was a fitted bodice shape with an A-line skirt, flattering her slim waistline while making the most of her bust. It had an interesting design, and the fabric was pure silk.

"You said that to every gown I've tried on, Hermione." Ginny rolled her eyes and giggled.

"Yes, because you look beautiful in every gown you've tried on. Oh, Harry's going to love you in that gown."

"Harry loves me with and without a gown," Ginny sniggered wickedly, examining herself in the full-body mirror.

Hermione didn't reply at once; for a moment Ginny thought her friend hadn't heard what she had said, but then she cleared her throat and made a solemn face. "Yes, he does, Ginny." That whisper caught Ginny off-guard and made her stomach disappear entirely, because no matter how softly Hermione said it, the sound seemed to directly hit Ginny like a nudge because then Hermione asked the question Ginny had feared to answer. "You love him, too, don't you?"

The silence between them tensed for a moment when Ginny locked eyes with Hermione and found she couldn't look away. Like a warm breeze enfolding her heart and all senses leaving her mind, she kissed Hermione, not caring about the few gaping people around them. And there was this tickle in her stomach again…

"I hope I still do," Ginny answered.

*'*'*'*

They walked along the sidewalk, looking into some stores right after they had their lunch. Hermione stared a last time on her wrist watch and said to Ginny, "It's a quarter to five. I've got to go."

"Yeah, thank you, Hermione." Ginny handed Hermione her paper bag.

"At least we found the perfect gown for you. After all, we've been in two bridal boutiques and tried on over fifty gowns and about thirty pairs of wedding shoes," Hermione pointed out, her arms hooked around Ginny's. "Tell Harry thank you for the books I bought instead of a dress."

"I'll tell him. Where do you meet Matthew, by the way? I think it's a bit impolite if you don't introduce him to me; after all, I'm your best friend." _Were they still best friends or more than that?_ Ginny wondered and looked down the alley to avoid Hermione's eyes.

Hermione, unhooking her arm from Ginny's, said in defeat, "OK, fine. You can come with me. Are you still convinced that I'm having a date with him? Because it's not true," she snorted, rolling her eyes.

"Let me just meet him, then I'll go. Promise," Ginny pleaded, close to whining. She was elated when Hermione nodded and dragged her along with her towards the bistro.

*'*'*'*

They entered a little bistro a few blocks down, and a young, blond-haired man, wearing a black long robe, sat in a booth and waved when he saw Hermione entering.

"He's already here," Hermione whispered to Ginny.

When they approached him, the young man stood up and took Hermione into a friendly hug. Ginny scowled.

"Hey, I didn't recognise you at once," Matthew said, admiring Hermione in full length. "You're getting prettier the longer I know you."

"Thank you." Hermione felt her cheeks warm a little, tucking some loose curls behind her ear. "This is Ginny Weasley. You met my ex-boyfriend, Ron, didn't you? She's his younger sister. We went shopping and bought a wedding gown."

"Oh, I hope not for you," Matthew said, his bright grin altered to a frown.

"No, for her. Ginny's going to marry next week."

He ushered the two girls to take a seat and told Ginny, "Congratulations. It's really fascinating how young women marry nowadays, knowing so early who their _right__One_ is. But sadly, when in their living together as a wedded couple, realisation hits that he wasn't the right one after all. I hope that'll not happen to you."

"It won't happen to Ginny," Hermione said, brushing off her robe to place it on the vacant chair. "She knows Harry is the One since she was eleven. The Chosen One, am I right, Ginny?" she laughed about her own choice of words, blushing in the process when Ginny glared at her.

"How long do you know Hermione?" Ginny asked all of a sudden, eyes pierced on Matthew. "And how well do you know her?"

Matthew stared back, pondering on the question before giving an answer. Hermione could sense where all this would lead. Ginny was so much like Ron.

Scratching his stubby cheek, Matthew said after a prolonged pause, "I think since she broke up with her former boyfriend two years ago. We've worked together on a case. I know her well enough, I guess. Why?"

"Hm…do you like her?"

"Ginny, what an indiscreet question is that?" Hermione squealed, face gleaming, she swatted Ginny's arm.

"I like her a lot." His answer was sincere and came rather quickly, which didn't only surprise Ginny but Hermione as well. He didn't break eye contact with Ginny, and Hermione couldn't help but sigh because she'd seen this scene before—only it was Ron asking these questions. "Hermione told me a lot about you. She said you're her closest friend."

"She said that?" Ginny asked with a smug smile, placing a hand on Hermione's sigh under the table. "How close did she say we were?"

Hermione startled at the sudden touch, tried to ignore Ginny's hand when they stroked up and down the inside of her thigh. "We really should go down to business, I—I mean, discuss the case you're working on, Matthew," she stuttered, coughing in her hand to hide her strained voice.

"Sure," Matthew said, obviously not being aware of Ginny's busy hand. He took out his silver briefcase and put it on the table. "I took some snapshots from the location and interviewed five Muggles living there and about three wizards and six witches. I found a trace of Dark Magic on some objects. Look at the snapshots."

Hand shaking when she reached forward for the photos, Hermione suddenly squeaked and clasped both hands to her mouth. Ginny was drawing circles down there, pushing up her skirt as she went. Hermione shifted in her seat but did, though involuntarily, spread her legs a little more for Ginny.

"What's wrong, Hermione? Does that surprise you?" Matthew asked as he took out more folders. "In fact, the Aurors have been sent there already to investigate the location."

His words were distorted in Hermione's ears. The sensation between her legs became more intense by now, that Hermione couldn't help but to want more. She couldn't even concentrate on what Matthew was saying. An onward surge of desire filled Hermione's body; she knew she wasn't strong enough to deny Ginny.

"You think you could get them done until tomorrow?" Matthew said, piling the folders in front of Hermione. "I need them back before Tuesday because I've to go back to Canada."

Hastily, she nodded and tried all she could to even her breathing while Ginny kept on caressing her thighs.

"Are you feeling alright?" Ginny asked innocently. "Do you want to go home?"

Hermione let out a restrained whimper and nodded again. Gathering all the folders Matthew was holding, she said, "I'll review them tonight and owl you when I'm done. Is that okay?"

Matthew looked surprised, but seemed to agree with it. "Are you leaving now?"

"Yes, we are," Ginny answered for Hermione, as she helped her carrying some folders and pushed Hermione towards the exit door. "She's excited to work on the files."

"I'll owl you," Hermione called back.

And then they left the bistro.

*'*'*'*

As soon as they arrived in Hermione's apartment, their lips met instantly on the second the door had fallen shut, hands groping all over the other, discarding their stuff on the table and their clothes on the floor while taking course to Hermione's bedroom. Ginny pressed Hermione against the bedroom door, they stared at each other intently, looking for approval to go on with this. Though both knew they wanted it. In that very moment, their heavy breaths and the longing in their eyes spoke for themselves, rendering words unnecessary. One last affirming kiss and the two women disappeared once again behind Hermione's bedroom door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Ending It**

In this secret affair, Ginny realised that it wasn't only the alcohol that compelled both women to such desires for each other on their first time, but something else that amounted to underlying feelings. Some small part of her was thinking of Harry, of logic, and all the other things she didn't want to think of, blaming him for both his physical and emotional absence; but it was mainly this part that exerted a strong, irresistible force on her that drove her to her female best friend's bed. She sought the kind of affection, and passion, and lust Hermione could give her, thus, which had been missing in her relationship with Harry.

Could she really be so inconsiderate, so selfish? Just because Harry wasn't perfect, she ran off to sleep with someone who desired her more, who was more capable of indulging her need for instant gratification? Or was Harry's imperfection only an excuse to her desire of a morally wrong and unethical affair with Hermione?

_People always want what they can't have_, she remembered Hermione saying long time ago, when they'd discovered that Ron had been cheating on Hermione with Lavender.

Nevertheless, and despite her guilt, Ginny could not stop thinking that making love with Hermione was simply wonderful. It was more than enough to keep her fascinated, even more intrigued that Hermione was driven by similar desires. Surely, Hermione was still broken because of Ron; old wounds resurrected by his sudden appearance, pushing her over the edge when that insensitive git declared that he got Lavender pregnant. Hermione sought comfort, more or less of a physical nature. Still, was it right to take advantage of it?

For a concise moment, Ginny wondered if all this was what Hermione needed, what she, herself, really wanted, and if everything was alright to allow it if just for one last time again to momentarily forget reality. To forget Harry.

*'*'*'*

The two women broke apart, panting. Ginny rolled on her side to face her lover, the blanket coiled around her waist. Even though Hermione's hair looked dishevelled, her lipstick weakly smeared around her lips, her forehead covered by a layer of sweat, Ginny found her very beautiful, which definitely was an understatement.

Leaning her head against Hermione's shoulder and pressing her face against the nape of her neck while inhaling her sweet scent, Ginny thought that she'd never felt so complete in her entire life before. What the heck did she really want? She couldn't possibly have both of them. Not only would she hurt Harry, but Hermione as well, who had suffered more than enough already because of Ron. How long would it take until her senses returned to her, until she realised that she shouldn't be sleeping with Ginny, a bride-to-be?

She wanted to hide the tears in her eyes that Hermione shouldn't see. She took a deep breath, shivering in the process. Hermione must have noticed, since she tilted Ginny's chin to make her look at her.

"Are you alright?" Hermione breathed against her forehead, brushing the tears away with her thumb. There was concern in her brown eyes. "Don't look like that," she said gently. "Was I so awful?"

_This was the sort of line Harry would ask_, Ginny mused, smiling in response.

"No, it's not that," Ginny said with a coarse voice. "You were perfect." _In many ways_, she added in her thought.

"Then what is it?"

Brushing away loose strands out of Hermione eyes, Ginny asked, "Do you think I deserve to be happy?"

"Of course, you do!" Hermione said without hesitation. "Everyone deserves to be happy."

_Do you think you could ever be happy with me?_ she wanted to ask, willing to leave Harry for her, but instead she said, "Hermione, I've been thinking about something ... all day long. It was like a sudden blow that overcame me," Ginny went on, looking at Hermione's lips for she couldn't look directly at her eyes without bursting out in tears. The seriousness in her voice made her lover's smile completely disappear. "It can't go on like this, can it?"

Hermione stayed silent for several seconds, and Ginny knew Hermione was just forming her answer. Ginny could figuratively hear Hermione's brain working and analysing the said statement based on the circumstances the two friends had brought themselves in. It stung Ginny painfully, but she had to admit that she couldn't be with Hermione even though her heart, mind and body ached to be with her. She couldn't even imagine having a life without Hermione by her side, but share a life with the man whose aspiration was merely dedicated to Quidditch instead of her, who would spend most of his time with practices and matches rather than with her. A celebrity, whom she had to share with the rest of the world. And no matter how much Ginny wanted to convey her true feelings for Hermione, that she was actually ready to give up everything for her, something held her back.

_Her mother._ Ginny's mother was still emotionally fragile because of Fred's loss during the war. George, as well, hadn't been the same since then. He decided to close their joke shop and went on a world trip with his best friend, Lee Jordan, with the reason that life was too short and that he wanted to see the whole world without using Apparation. Ginny knew that there were more distinct reasons George wouldn't say aloud. The joke shop reminded him too much of Fred. George hadn't returned home since he left three years ago. He had sent many owls and photographs, though, to report his journey.

Bill and Fleur's daughter, Victoire, was a little weak for her age. Beside all that, signs of magic hadn't shown through yet, even though she was already three and a half years old. The Healer from St. Mungo's Hospital said that it was probably due to the stress the mother was exposed to during the war. Victoire sometimes refused to eat so she was getting weaker each day. Her parents and especially the whole Weasley family were worrying about her life.

And now with Ron, who'd resigned from his Auror job on Lavender's behalf due to the unexpected relocation of his position to Norway, where he'd be away from her and their unborn child for what would stretch to weeks and months. Instead he started an unprofitable job as a vendor in Diagon Alley near their apartment. Molly worried that her youngest son wouldn't be able to sustain his family. She feared also that she wouldn't see George again. She feared for her granddaughter's life. She kept holding onto the last thread of sanity in order not to break down completely, so she focused her attention to helping Ginny prepare for her upcoming wedding.

Ginny rolled on the edge of the bed and sat upright. In order to deliver the biggest lie she could muster, she turned her back to Hermione. "I love Harry. I've never felt so safe in a relationship before than with him. I can't actually imagine my life without him. I don't know what I was thinking when I started this with you," Ginny said, shaking as the words spilled from her lips. "We both know we can't be together, right? And I think it would be just right to put this to an end. I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry."

Hermione stirred on the side of her bed. Ginny inclined slightly her head to her, finding Hermione's back turned to her, too. Ginny heard a sniffing from her lover; she realised that Hermione was crying. How much she wanted to revoke what she'd said, take Hermione into her arms and kiss her again instead. But she couldn't.

"One part of me wants to be with you, but the other…knows I can't," Ginny said to her lap, staring at her shaky hands. When Hermione remained silent, Ginny spoke again. "Maybe you want to say something. Hermione, please say something…_anything_."

"Fine!" Hermione said, pulling on her bathrobe, which was resting on the backrest of a chair nearby the bed. She gave a loud sigh, before she continued in exasperation, "You _shagged_ me one last time before you could realise how much Harry means to you?" she spit fierily. She closed her bathrobe in haste. "Goodness! What the heck was I thinking? That this means something to you? That we could be together just because I gave in to you?"

"Hermione, please don't say that," Ginny pleaded, crawling over to Hermione to reach for her hand. But Hermione backed off, watching down at her warily.

"Don't touch me!" Hermione warned, her voice breaking.

"I know I'm damn stupid, but I wanted to be sure…what it'd be like when I chose you instead of Harry. That I think I will hurt other people too." She thought of her family, as tears ran down the length of her cheeks and she felt her chest stinging; it was hard to explain something so damn complicated, so confusing, to the one she _actually_ loved when she wasn't sure if that was what she really wanted. And if she'd choose this, if how many people she'd disappoint in the process. Ginny realised that, for once, she wasn't being selfish.

Hermione nodded once, the fieriness in her eyes disappearing, replaced by _the_ Hermione Ginny had known for years as her understanding best friend. "If that's what you want…" It was said so quietly that Ginny almost missed it.

Hermione walked over to the bathroom and closed the door noiselessly behind her.

*'*'*'*

No one said another word since. After they had taken both a refreshing shower and got dressed, Hermione walked Ginny to the main door. She had offered Ginny to stay for dinner, but Ginny had refused and said that Harry would be waiting at home and that he'd promised her a romantic dinner together. Things like these had been always hurtful to Hermione, more each time when Ginny declined just because she had to be with Harry, as if slapping her on the face with the fact that Hermione could never be her first priority just because they were _just friends_. But it was over now, wasn't it? And Ginny made it clear, didn't she? She had chosen Harry for good.

"I'll see you then," Hermione said. "My regards to Harry."

"Yes, I will." Ginny bent hesitatingly forward, but just when she was close to Hermione's lips, she changed the direction and kissed her on the cheek instead. Hermione felt her heart stinging at this. It was hard to pretend it didn't hurt.

Hermione held the door open for Ginny, and unexpectedly, there was Matthew standing at the door, holding up his hand in midair, preparing to knock. His silver briefcase was under his arm, and his hand clutched on a plastic bag.

"Matthew!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise, but surprisingly, she was also delighted to see him

"Hi," he said, his eyes shifting from Hermione to Ginny. "Oh, is my timing wrong?"

"Yes," Ginny mumbled under her breath.

"No, come in," Hermione said cheerfully, gesturing the tall, blond man in. His black robe reached to his ankles, and he seemed taller when he looked down on Hermione. "I'm not yet done with your files. I planned to send them to you as soon as possible."

"Oh, I'm not here for the files. Just take your time, Hermione," he said, waving a hand dismissively, smiling his boyish grin. He held a plastic bag to her, his cheerful smile reaching his blue eyes. "This is for you. I thought you weren't feeling well."

"Er … yes, I _did not__feel well_. But it's much better now, thanks," she replied, throwing a fleeting look at Ginny, who still stood in the doorframe, watching them warily. When looking from Ginny back to Matthew, Hermione suddenly got an idea. _To make things work easier for her and Ginny_, she decided, and shifted closer to the man, Ginny was jealous of.

Ginny spoke for the first time. "Are you planning to stay, Matthew?"

Matthew looked nonplussed at Ginny, whose eyes sparked ferociously like a threatened kitten. "Dunno, why?" he said, scratching the back of his head.

"Because Hermione is not feeling well," Ginny snapped, pressing her lips to a line.

"I thought Hermione's feeling better now. Aren't you, Hermione?" he turned to Hermione and waited for confirmation. Nodding, she walked beside Matthew and hooked her arm around his. Hermione could have sworn that she heard Ginny's breath hitch.

"It's all right. I'll see you tomorrow, Ginny," Hermione said, forming her lips to a strained smile. Ginny's eyes narrowed at her. "Matthew and I are going to work on the files together." She looked at him, and he blushed. "Would _you_ like to stay for dinner, Matthew?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied with a bright grin.

Ginny groaned before she left the apartment, closing the door noiselessly behind her, as Hermione did a few hours ago, after they had verbally agreed that it was now completely over between them.

*'*'*'*

When Ginny arrived at her apartment, she was surprised to find the living room filled with lit white candles that covered every available surface, lending a warm glow over the room. Harry must've bought the food, which Ginny found on the table in their dining niche, because Harry would never cook for his fiancée. He was the type of man who'd rather buy everything with his money than waste his time in doing it on his own.

However, Ginny found the gesture very sweet. Harry had kept his promise of a romantic dinner, and Ginny couldn't be more touched at this. A wave of guilt and shame overwhelmed her. How could she have cheated on Harry this badly? Harry, who was only working hard to save money for their future, who would do anything to ensure Ginny was happy. So _what if_ he was not always around for her? So _what if_ their sex life had suffered due to his absence? Ginny wasn't the type of woman, who based a relationship on sexual matters. Hadn't she been judging Ron because he left Hermione for sex with Lavender?

If Ginny wanted to make it work with Harry, then he deserved to know the truth. She had been lying on him for long enough. Yes, cheating is lying, too. For not telling the complete truth, because she only told part of the truth didn't mean she was not lying. She did not only break his trust, but his faith in her, too. She could never live a life with him built on a foundation of lies. Harry didn't deserve that.

_Where was Harry, anyway?_ Ginny noticed the first time that Harry was nowhere in sight. When she heard voices coming from their bedroom, she tiptoed towards the source, for she intended to surprise her fiancé. Harry was probably talking to someone in the hearth, Ginny thought.

She opened slowly the bedroom door to hear just the last fragment of conversation before Harry hang up…

_'…it's getting too complicated. Let's talk some other time about this again.'_

_'…But Harry,'_ a female voice responded in a whining tone.

When the door was open and Ginny had the full sight of the room, she looked instinctively over to the hearth, where a head just disappeared. Harry jumped when he noticed Ginny standing at the doorframe.

"Harry, who was that?" Ginny asked, crossing the room to get over to the chimney. Harry paled all over his face, but he struggled with the effort to keep calm in front of Ginny.

"My team mate," Harry said; he removed his eyeglasses from his nose to wipe them on his sleeve. He avoided looking at Ginny, though. "She was asking the strategies we are going to use for the upcoming game, so that she can mentally prepare for it."

"And it was so important that she couldn't wait for the next practice?" She threw a sceptical look at Harry.

"Ginny, what's the matter?" Harry sighed. Putting on his glasses, he moved to Ginny to embrace her. "I still have to be there for my team. I'm the team captain, remember? So whenever there's a problem, they can call me up if they need me. It doesn't seem important to you, but to me, it really is."

Ginny pulled slightly back to look into his emerald eyes. "What's more of your priority, Harry? Being a _sodding_ team captain or my boyfriend?" she said a bit too harshly. She had a feeling that something was different with Harry; it was there in his eyes, but she couldn't tell what exactly it was. Maybe it was just her own guilty conscience towards Harry that was making her a bit paranoid.

"That's not fair," Harry said, hurt reflected in his eyes, "You know how grateful I am to have you in my life, don't you? Please, love, I planned a wonderful dinner for us. Let's not spoil this evening with a nonsense fight."

Sighing but knowing that Harry was right, Ginny leant her head against his chest. Why was she treating Harry so rudely? She did the right thing to end up what she had with Hermione; it was true that she felt safer in _Harry's_ arms, that she was happy with him and that she didn't want to live without him. It was all right, wasn't it?

On the other hand, she wondered why in the world she was still playing with the thought to leave all that she had with Harry, this wonderful home he provided her with, give up on their almost four-years-long relationship, just to be with Hermione for the rest of her life.

She stared back at him again. "_I'm sorry_," Ginny said, giving him a kiss on the lips. How she'd wished Harry knew that these two words meant more than just a simple apology.

* * *

_(A/N: Since I can't reply to your comments, I will write a short note here. I just want to thank you for reading this story. I'm re-writing the chapters, so it's going to take long to update. The story rating is probably not accurate, since it doesn't contain explicit scenes of a sexual nature even in later chapters._

_On another side note: In Britain, it's actually the bride's family or father, who has to pay the wedding. I didn't know that when I started this story. In my culture, it's the groom's family, who pays for everything. In my story, Harry, the groom, is in charge for the financial part, while Ginny, the bride, prepares the ceremony. .)_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - Regrets**

It had been three days since Ginny called off their affair, and Hermione felt so empty inside that she thought her heart would never heal. She was probably more broken now than she had ever been, worse than when Ron had broken her heart. She kept on telling herself that it was just for the best for them both. Harry would give Ginny the world, and being a woman, what else could be more romantic? They wouldn't have to live in concealment or in dishonour just because their relationship wasn't very much accepted in the society.

Harry and Ginny had both known each other for so long, and Ginny had always fancied the famous Harry Potter. Hermione smiled sadly at the memory that suddenly overwhelmed her. She remembered a teenaged Ginny, who fawned over this scrawny boy, and Ginny did all the silly things a teenager girl did just to get their crush's attention, such as sending him a poetry, though an awful one, on a Valentine's Day. And even though they split up before Harry went chasing down Voldemort, at the end, destiny had brought them back together. Wouldn't that just mean that the two really were meant for each other?

Hermione would never have forgiven herself if her two best friends' relationship, which spanned many years and where both had worked towards respect and understanding and trust, was destroyed because of a momentary attraction. Hermione was aware that there was a significant amount of duplicity, lies of omission, deceit, and intended vagaries that Ginny was consciously engaged in and Hermione was also part of.

Hermione was staring into the distance outside her bedroom window; the sunrise looked amazingly beautiful. She startled when two arms wrapped gently around her waist, muscular flat chest pressing against her back, hugging her and planting a soft kiss on her neck.

"Had a nice sleep?" came a firm voice from behind Hermione, leaning in to nuzzle her ear. She couldn't believe she had given in so easily to Matthew after never fully giving herself to Ron, whom she had actually loved, despite of anything that happened.

It wasn't that Hermione had forgotten that Matthew had spent the last night in her apartment that somewhat crushed her inwardly, but the sudden realisation that she had agreed to be his girlfriend. Being dumped twice for the same reason by two people coming from the same family made Hermione feel so enormously stupid and numb that she promised to herself to love and open up again to someone completely _new_.

Nevertheless, she let out a long-suffering sigh and put hesitatingly her hands on Matthew's forearms. She pushed herself weakly away from him and said, "Matthew, just—just give me some time, okay? Please." Her voice broke in half.

Matthew released her; Hermione turned around and crossed nervously her arms over her chest, as if to keep the shattered pieces inside her in place. They stared at each other for an intense minute, until Matthew broke the silence.

"I'll give you all the time you need, Hermione," he said with a sincere smile, brushing a strand of hair out of Hermione's eyes. She traced the shape of his biceps with her eyes, saw his muscles twitch by the littlest movement he made. Her eyes stopped on his bare chest; it was baby-soft and yet so hard and strong, so _manly_. Why can't she feel anything at all, she wondered, inhaling deeply his musk scent. "After all," he continued, breaking in her thoughts, "I've waited this long, right? I can as well wait for the rest of my life."

Raising her brow at him and for once not knowing what to say, Hermione remained silent for a while. Deep inside, she forced herself to get rid of the misery she'd been feeling the last couple of days, and imagined herself to actually be happy with this good-looking man. Strange though, she realised there was this tiny amount of harmony evolving from her chest when she stared into this man's hopeful eyes and all feelings of loneliness suddenly disappeared. Matthew would give her enough time to love him back. No pressure. He would wait, no matter what. Right now, this meant the world to her.

Smiling at this realisation, Hermione said playfully, "And you'll really wait for me?" She punched him on the arm, stroked his chest. "I'm glad to know that."

He smiled back and then his playful expression wavered, his eyes resting on her lips. For a moment Hermione thought that he was going to kiss her, but then he just stared at her, doing nothing. His lips slightly parted and closed like a fish under the water, no words came. Hermione's heart dropped to her feet when she remembered how Ginny had exactly looked the same just like Matthew in this very moment when she had told her they weren't right for each other and therefore had to leave Hermione, before she went back to her true love, which was Harry.

"Herm–" Matthew started, but before he could finish the word, Hermione had already placed a finger on his lips to silence him, putting off the words he would probably say just to hurt her. _How did the saying go again?_ she thought with a sad a smile, _Once bitten, twice shy?_

"You don't have to stay just because you feel sorry for me. It's alright. I'm fine," Hermione whispered, averting her eyes from his. "I don't need anyone's pity, you know."

Matthew shushed her by leaning his forehead gently against hers and giving her a soft kiss on the lips. Hermione felt tears forming in her eyes. He took her hand into his and said, "You know that I've received the order to return to Canada as soon as possible, right?" He moved even closer to her, tilted her chin up to him when she refused to hold eye contact, and the expression on his face wasn't something Hermione had expected to find. There was a sparkle in his eyes that made Hermione feel this relief all of a sudden, and it took away her fear and worry that he, like all the others before him, would only leave her. He added, "Will you come with me? Because I'm not going to leave you."

After what Hermione had been through, all the pain and sadness, this might have been the most wonderful thing somebody had ever said to her. _Because I'm not going to leave you. Because I'm not going to leave you,_ it echoed in her mind. And her relieved feeling was showing through her features, warming her cheeks.

"Yes, I'd love to," she answered in delight, throwing her arms around his neck.

As he returned the embrace, Hermione thought that Matthew seemed to be so sure of being with her. His scent was calming her, and his strong but tender grip gave her a feeling of security. When she rested her head on his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat, she wondered: Could she ever truly _love_ this man?

*'*'*'*

At the Burrow, Ginny and her mother were packing the last give-away gifts for the wedding, which would be held on the upcoming Sunday. Harry had gone to his last tournament and promised to be back the next day. Ron and his almost four-month pregnant girlfriend, Lavender, had come over to his parents' house, too. Lavender was helping Ginny with the preparations. She was cleaning the vases that would be used for the bouquets with a Cleaning Charm. Ron was sitting on a nearby sofa, reading his Quidditch magazine. Molly flicked her wand and all the gifts aligned, preparing themselves to jump into their respective paper bags.

"Did you tell all of your friends that bridesmaids' dress fitting is today after lunch?" Molly asked her daughter, getting up to her feet and leading with a swish of her wand all the paper bags to the neighbouring room. Luna Lovegood, who had arrived just half an hour earlier than Ron and Lavender, was watching the others curiously. She was sitting in one corner and was enchanting some red and white ribbons that would be used for the wedding decorations.

"I did," Ginny answered absent-mindedly, cleaning up the mess around her.

"Why isn't Hermione here yet? Isn't she supposed to be your maid of honour?" Lavender asked with a hint of spite in her voice. She put a Polishing Charm on the vases now, so that they polished themselves automatically.

Ginny looked up in bewilderment at Lavender, as though for a moment she'd completely forgotten who Hermione was, but then made a face like it was actually none of her business. Ron looked up from his Quidditch magazine over to Ginny. Molly disappeared in the kitchen, and when Ginny heard a clattering of pots and plates, she knew that her mum was out of hearing range and busy with the cooking task.

"Yeah, she is. I—I told her, of course," Ginny mumbled to herself. "I probably should send her an owl to reconfirm that she had to come today, shouldn't I?"

"Haven't you seen each other in the past few days?" Luna poked out her tongue out of her mouth while un-knotting the ribbons with her fingernails and teeth. She gave up on enchanting them since they only curled up and made knots by themselves the more she tried.

Ginny didn't look up; she felt as though everyone's eyes were on her. She continued cleaning the mess around her in the Muggle way—she'd completely forgotten that she could actually do magic. "No, actually, we didn't," she lied, attempting to convince herself it was the truth.

"Are the two of you in a fight or something?" Ron asked, eying his sister from his sofa. Ginny frowned at him.

"Ron, just because I haven't seen her the past few days doesn't mean we're having a row," Ginny spat, her voice strict. "C'mon, you lazy troll. Help us clean up this mess before Fleur and Bill arrive. I still have to take a shower, clean up my room and help Mum in the kitchen. You shouldn't let your pregnant girlfriend work too hard."

"Your wedding is in three days and you and Hermione haven't even seen each other?" Ron persisted, sounding unconvinced. Ginny's eyebrows twitched, her frustration growing. He added, amusement clearly in his voice, "Ah, I know that face, Ginny. Admit it, you two are having a row, aren't you?"

"Ronald!" Lavender warned in a high-pitched exasperating tone, like warning a little child, and raised a brow at him. "Stop being a nuisance."

"I wonder if she's dating that ugly bloke she had dinner with last night," Ron remarked, talking more to himself. He focused his attention back on his magazine, turning the pages, as Ginny watched her brother shake his head.

Ginny almost jumped when she heard this news. "What? With whom?" Although Ginny tried to sound more natural than highly inquiring, she couldn't deny the fact that the news completely hit her like a stone on the head.

"Lavender and I went out last night, in Diagon Alley, in a restaurant," Ron reminisced, slightly irritated. "Hermione was having dinner with a bloke. Dunno if you know him. I met him two years ago when Hermione and I were still together. She introduced me to him, like letting me know there was a bloke in line if ever I wasn't good enough for her."

"Ron! You know Hermione is not like that," Ginny snapped, throwing him a look and defending her friend.

Ron's ears turned red, and Ginny realised that maybe he was just a little jealous at Hermione's date. Even though it was obvious that Ron had no feelings anymore for Hermione, he still felt like protecting her and keeping her away from other guys. Ron added dismissively, "He seemed a bit pathetic to me…fawning over Hermione while she was with me."

"At least, they look perfect together," Lavender commented, oblivious to Ginny's growing frustration.

"He's a bloody swot. What's his name again? Something with _Math–_" Ron said thoughtfully.

Ginny's voice cracked with sadness; she closed her eyes as she formed the name. "Matthew. Matthew Johnson."

There was spite in Ron's voice, as he grumbled, closing his Quidditch magazine, and rolling it tightly to a tube. He almost looked like he was going to hit someone with it. "Yeah, that bloke, Matthew. You've met him?"

Ginny disregarded his question. She was still kneeling there, sitting on her ankles while staring on the painted carpet, as a wave of agonizing pain washed over her. A feeling of _regret_ consumed her heart. How could she have ever let Hermione go? But wasn't this what she wanted? If it was supposed to be the right decision, then why did it feel so wrong?

"I'm happy for Hermione," Lavender said, snapping Ginny back to the painful truth of reality. "She finally found someone of her calibre. I mean Matthew's smart, sophisticated, even good-looking." She counted down on her fingers, sniggering, and she reminded Ginny of the silly, somewhat dense girl Lavender used to be when they were teenagers. _Some people just never change,_ she thought and almost laughed.

"How the hell d'you know? You haven't talked to him personally," Ron remarked croakily.

"I can sense it, Ronald. It's what you call knowledge of human nature. Hermione seemed to be very happy with him," Lavender answered, giggling again. "We should've joined them at their table. You think she saw us, too?"

"Dunno, prob'ly not." Ron shrugged. "They were too busy."

"They're a real match. Don't you think so too, Ginny?" Lavender asked.

Ginny held her arms tightly across her body, swallowing hard the growing knot that had been disturbing her the moment Hermione's name was mentioned. She felt as though she would rather be anywhere else but right there at this very moment.

*'*'*'*

There was a knock at the main door, and Molly's distant voice followed afterwards when she ushered merrily a visitor into the house. From the excited tone of her mother's voice, Ginny could assume who the newly arrived visitor was. She found herself holding her breath again.

Molly walked into the living room; in her tow was no one other than Hermione Granger.

"Look who finally arrived," Molly declared cheerfully.

In an instant, Ginny felt like melting away when her eyes met Hermione's the moment she entered the living room. Hermione's lips formed a weak smile, gave Ginny an almost unnoticeable nod, then greeted the others in the room. It seemed like she didn't even care at all when Ron's pregnant girlfriend—the larcenist, so Hermione once called her—got to her feet to give Hermione a friendly hug like they've been best friends for life.

To Ginny's surprise, Hermione returned the embrace and beamed at Lavender. She said, "Hi, how have you been? You look great."

"Thanks, you look great, too. We were just talking about you," Lavender said. Luna, who had been lost in her task of un-knotting the ribbons so that neither of them seemed to remember that she was still in the room, came from her corner and walked up to Hermione to give her hug, too.

"Hi, Hermione," Luna said in her airy voice. Somehow, Luna had managed to get red and white ribbons ensnared in her light-blonde hair, snaking through the tendrils like limbless snakes. "Could you help me getting rid of these?"

Hermione smiled amusedly and flicked her wand over Luna, so that all the ribbons fell on the floor. "Thanks," Luna said, looking grateful. "I may have to come up with another charm. The ones I used weren't effective at all."

Molly turned to the others, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention, she said, "While I'll finish cooking the meal, Ron, clean up your bedroom. Bill, Fleur and your little niece will arrive soon. You girls should finish the decorations, after that go upstairs and try on the dresses."

"Mum, it's not _my_ bedroom anymore. Why do I have to clean it up?" Ron complained, but his mother gave him a warning look before disappearing in the kitchen. Ron hid annoyed behind his Quidditch magazine.

Luna giggled, "I can do that for you, Ronald." She turned her attention to another seemingly more interesting object in the room, something that looked like a stethoscope that was resting on a pile of other stuff of Ginny's father's Muggle collection.

Ginny remained unmoving all the time, lost in thoughts, staring at Hermione as though she was a fallen angel that was taking her breath away. She smiled at the thought, feeling silly. She hadn't moved a muscle or said a word since Hermione walked in. The three days that had passed since she called off their affair felt like three long forlorn years, deprived from the pure and genuine ecstasy. And only now she realised how much she'd missed Hermione.

In addition to the strangeness that happened around Ginny, Ron, as well, walked towards Hermione and asked for a hug. Lavender would actually always hit Ron when he only stared at other women, especially if the woman was his ex. She used to mark her territory, giving everyone to know that Ron was hers, not letting other women being close to _her_ boyfriend, which Ginny had always found childish. But this time, Lavender gave an affirming nod before Ron could pull Hermione into his arms. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Nice to see you, Hermione," Ron croaked, hugging Hermione tightly. When he pulled away, Lavender hooked her arm around his. "So, you're dating that bloke from last night?" Ron asked straight to the point.

Lavender swatted his arm. "_Ronald!_" she exclaimed, "Don't be indiscreet!" She turned to Hermione and smiled, looking expectant, though.

"Excuse me, what?" Hermione said, confused.

"Matthew," Lavender half spluttered, her eyes growing in excitement.

Even Ginny listened up now, trying to breathe evenly, but failed. Hermione glanced over to Ginny and Ginny stared at back at her without blinking. When the tension grew between the two, she finally pulled herself up to her feet and brushed off the crinkles from her knee-length skirt, not looking back at Hermione again.

"Oh," Hermione said, as though getting what was going on. "This is private." She giggled and blushed like a teenage girl in love, as if imitating Lavender. The truth hit Ginny like a ton of bricks; she clenched her teeth and bit on her lower lip.

"Hermione—" Ron started, but Ginny cut his words.

"Honestly, you two should stop being so bloody nosy," Ginny snapped, the hurt clear in her voice but she tried to hide it. "Hermione, could you help me upstairs with … with choosing which high-heels to wear, please?"

Hermione seemed to hesitate at first, looking slightly stunned at the harshness of Ginny's tone, but then she complied when Ginny threw a look over her shoulder at her. By the looks of it, not really wanting to make a scene in front of the others, Hermione followed Ginny her way upstairs towards her former bedroom.

Now, what was she going to tell Hermione?

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_A/N: Thanks for all the kind comments. Really! Let me know what you think of this chapter._ :)


	7. Chapter 7

**(A/N: Just a warning ahead: this chapter is full of drama.)**

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**Chapter 7 – Final Decision**

Almost nothing had changed in Ginny's childhood bedroom since Hermione had been here two years ago, before her relationship with Ron fell apart. Plain furniture was decorating the room, matching the pale pink of the walls and the white, satin curtains. The bedroom included a wide closet and Ginny's dressers, plus items such as a toy box, a desk, and other items intended for Ginny's niece. The bed still had the same place beneath the wide windows, which the two girls, now both young women, had slept in together when Hermione stayed overnight at the Burrow.

Ron had always insisted on sharing his bedroom with Hermione, but Mrs Weasley would just never allow. She made the strict rules in her house that boys and girls shouldn't share rooms before they got married, which exactly had been the reason why Ginny had moved out so early just to live in with Harry.

So Ron and Hermione, at the early stage of their relationship, had had to sneak out without waking up the others to share secret kisses and sweet whispers with each other. Their teenage romance was something Hermione had believed was deep and undying simply because of everything they'd been through together, but then she came to realise that everybody grows up, or falls out of love, and nothing is meant for a lifetime. Such had been the case with her relationship with Ron…

Of course, Hermione did try to make it work for them but it was just that sex would not be the solution, unless she was hundred percent sure that Ron was worth it. Ron might have been immature, and the greatest pig she knew, but she had loved him despite it all. Unfortunately, he was already cheating on her, which had been going on for several months before Hermione had found out. The reason Ron hadn't broken up with Hermione at once so that all the pain and infidelity could've been avoided, was that he didn't want to hurt her, so he said. He had just made it all worse, though.

Pushing aside all tearful headache-causing memories of Ron, Hermione's attention returned to the room. On the right side of her was the cream-white wedding gown decorated with beaded embroidery. It was hung on a magical hanger, floating in the air with its ivory veil, beads, and the tiara hovering over it. It looked so amazing, and Hermione felt like her heart had shrunk to the size of a prune. Tears stung her eyes the longer she stared at it with fascination.

"Well, um," Ginny said, her voice so soft and vulnerable. But then there was a knock on the door, and a moment later, Luna entered the room.

"Ginny, your mum—" Luna broke off. When she saw the gown, she gasped, her eyes shimmering as she caught sight of the dress. "Oh, Ginny, you're going to wear that lovely gown? It's so beautiful," she said in her dreamy voice.

"Yes, it is," Ginny said, her hands deep in the pockets of her jeans. "Hermione helped me pick it out."

"I'm sure you'll look wonderful in it, Ginny. Are you excited?" Luna asked casually, walking up to the gown to have a closer look at the tiara. "Is that the tiara Harry bought you? I made speculations with Lavender that it must've been worth a fortune. Looks almost like one of those picturesque Pucker-Horncirclets I discovered in my last assignment, which, according to Rolf, only certain Nitkuxes wear to show their status. You see, just the construction is different, and, of course, yours is platinum, Ginny," Luna blabbered thoughtfully, bending her head to one side to view it from another angle, instead of just taking the tiara in her hands to have a better look. "A Nitkuxa's crown is usually made of some raw material…"

While Luna explained everything about the Nitkuxes, her voice faded into a hum in Hermione's ears. Usually, she would disprove any statement that came from Luna Lovegood that regards the creatures only Luna and her significant other, or her father, believed in. But this time she felt like keeping her comments to herself. She felt Ginny's gaze on her from the side, but ignored it by directing her notice on the more concrete, more relevant information. She looked from Luna to Ginny, swallowing hard.

_A platinum tiara._

The more she thought about it, the more she realised the bitter truth: Harry _could_ give Ginny the world. Hermione couldn't even offer Ginny a handful of Harry's wealth. Ginny's wedding band alone cost as much as Hermione's income for two months. Let alone the tiara; Hermione could pay her rent with it for the next six months. But then again, why was she trying to compete with Harry?

"Yeah, it's a lovely gift," Ginny shrugged, not at all impressed.

Still admiring the tiara, Luna said, "Harry has such good taste, don't you think, Hermione?"

Hermione looked sadly into Ginny's eyes. "Yes, he has," she said, her throat clogged with unspoken feelings. They locked eyes for a moment, with Ginny saying nothing, her chocolate brown eyes full of questions, full of bitterness. But Hermione restrained the urge to reach out for her when Luna spoke again, "Anyway, Mrs Weasley's calling you. You better come downstairs now."

"Okay," Ginny said, never breaking eye contact with Hermione.

Luna, oblivious to the thick chemistry in the air, merely waltzed out of the room; her hands were holding an imaginary gown. She hummed the wedding march and made half a pirouette before she disappeared out of the room. When the door closed, Hermione was able to look away from Ginny.

Ginny, looking feeble on her feet, walked over to a stack of square cartons and opened one. "Anyway, the bridesmaids' gowns are in these cartons here," she said. Hermione was grateful for the casualness, which gave her enough time to gather her senses. Ginny held up a gown. "This is what Lavender is going to wear, along with the other bridesmaids. Imagine that bloated wench is going to be one of my bridesmaids. How ridiculous of Ron to even suggest that, just so she wouldn't have to feel left out."

She held the dress up to present it to Hermione. It was Lamoure satin, a creamy pink strapless A-line gown with a trimming waistband and pick-ups on the skirt. She turned the back to Hermione to show the long tails highlight at the back.

"Indeed, it's really beautiful," said Hermione truthfully, adoring the gown. All she needed was distraction, _any_ distraction, just to ignore the undeniable force that pulled her towards Ginny. "And the fabric…it's…well, so lovely," she said.

"Yes, it is," Ginny said with a shrug. She moved to another carton and opened it. "This is what you're going to wear, Hermione."

Ginny held the gown up, which was even more breathtaking than the bridesmaids' gowns; it had a V-shaped neckline and an A-line skirt in Iridescent Taffeta. The Taffeta was gathered across the bodice with a drop sash on the skirt. "For my maid of honour," Ginny smiled lazily. "I chose this gown for you. You can keep it afterwards, you know, as a souvenir," she joked, laughing without any real emotion in her voice.

"Oh, Ginny. It's so…nice. It's wonderful. Thank you," Hermione said, her eyes blurring with tears, as if she was touched by the gesture. She used this opportunity to unleash some tears.

"You like it? You should try it on later."

Hermione hesitated, keeping her eyes on the gown.

"Harry said thank you for everything and for helping out and all, said you're a wonderful person." Ginny paused, adding with a smile, "Though I already knew that."

Hermione flinched at this, trying to keep her emotions at bay. Wonderful people don't screw each other's girlfriend, she thought. "I'm not," she whispered, but was aware that Ginny didn't hear it. She added in a firmer voice, "I really like the dress" Hermione said. She looked at the gown in Ginny's hands and felt her chest narrowing slightly. "Ginny, can I ask you a hypothetical question? If you were to choose a new maid of honour right now, who else would you consider?"

"Hm, why?"

"Just answer," Hermione pressed.

"None other. There's no one else to consider. You're my…best friend. I'd still choose you," Ginny said with certainty in her voice. "I'd still choose you…" she trailed off, furrowing her brows at Hermione. "Why? Are you backing out?"

"—Ginny, listen," Hermione said, taking a deep breath. Ginny looked on the verge of lashing out; she was not used to being let down, not by Hermione, not on such an important day in her life. But what other choice did Hermione have? She needed to leave. She didn't want to witness _them_ exchanging their vows, exchanging their rings, and promising perfection and never-ending love to each other.

"Look, we'll talk about it after lunch," Ginny said hastily. She tossed carelessly the gown into the carton box, and headed for the door. Hermione grabbed her hand before she could walk away.

"Are you happy?" Hermione asked, matter of fact.

"You know that I love you. Right?" Hermione said when Ginny failed to respond, tears welling in her eyes. Ginny's eyes glowed for a second, sparkling with hopes, only to have it dashed by Hermione's next words, "As a friend, I mean. And that no matter where I go or where I am, we'll be friends forever."

"Why are you saying that?" Ginny looked confused and backed away, as though she had been slapped for no reason.

"I just want you to know that," Hermione said reassuringly, though Ginny didn't seem to buy it. Hermione smiled at her friend, overplaying her sadness.

To keep it light, Hermione rolled her eyes and grinned, saying, "Don't look at me like that, Ginny. It's not that I'm going to die or something. I was just saying that we will always be friends, no matter where I am."

"Well, then," Ginny said with a strange, gargled tone in her voice, either not completely catching what Hermione intended to say, or just choosing to disregard it. "I love you, too," she said. "As a friend, I mean."

A short pause passed, before Hermione nodded once.

"And it's not like _I'm_ going to die, you know," Ginny said, playing along, "I'm only getting married."

Hermione laughed without humour. _That's the very point that's killing me_, she thought, refocusing her attention on something else that wasn't Ginny's face. She suddenly spotted a moving snapshot in one of the shelves, amongst the books and other objects. It was a snapshot taken in Harry and Ginny's apartment, at Ginny's bridal shower a month ago. Harry was holding his fiancée in his arms, twisting her around and then kissing her on the cheek. The look in their eyes expressed more than words can define.

"You're so lucky that you have Harry," Hermione said as she pointed out what was obvious to her, captured by, and at the same time, envious of the perfect image of the couple.

After a moment's hesitation, Ginny answered, "Yes…I am."

Hermione's chest constricted. She felt her knees buckle, her legs give way, as if someone had kicked at them from behind. Closing her eyes, she let the agonising pain pass by. No matter how much she'd mentally prepared for this, it still hit her like a sudden crash.

Yes, Ginny did love Harry.

She tried to march out of the room, only to have her pain dismantled as Ginny grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. Just like what Hermione did earlier, only that this time, Ginny pressed her lips against hers.

Hermione's head went from swimming in a vast mess of questions, pain, and doubts to a complete lack of awareness of anything that wasn't Ginny. She wasted no time in putting her arms around Ginny's waist in an attempt to pull her closer. Her brain must have decided to temporarily switch off and leave her feelings in charge. In fact, something she wasn't used to, yet it felt damn right.

Hermione missed the feeling of Ginny's warm lips, this affectionate kiss, the warm and loving embrace. She missed this swooping sensation in her stomach, which only this person she loved could evoke in her. Hermione suddenly wondered if she could leave all this behind and go away with a man she wasn't sure she could ever fall in love with.

And the reason?

_Just to run away from Ginny__._

Just to spare Harry the same pain Hermione had been through upon her discovery of being cheated on. Only now she understood why Ron withheld his unfaithfulness from her; to spare her the pain_._ Even though the reason was irrational, Hermione found herself now in the same situation. Hence, she needed to leave.

In the heat of their passion, Ginny started to cry, but still managed to keep her lips on Hermione's. She cupped Hermione's face with both hands just like how Hermione liked to be kissed, and sighed, as the kiss grew deeper.

Catching her breath, Ginny pulled slightly away and looked into Hermione's eyes, her voice soft. "Let's run away together," she said out of the blue. "We can go somewhere else, where no one knows us. _Just please_…"

Hermione felt her heart swelling, felt the tears she was desperately trying to hold back cascading her cheeks. She said, letting her heart speak for her, "Sounds great."

Ginny kissed Hermione's chin, the tip of her nose, her lips, and beamed all over her face, while Hermione continued drawing this perfect picture, where in a parallel universe, the fairy tale ending for them existed. "Somewhere where no one adverses what we care. Just far away, where we wouldn't have to face the consequences of what we did to the people we care the most for. We could always deal with them someday. But till that day, we would live together, share a household, fight in the mornings, and have sex in the nights." She laughed gently. "Just you and me. And no one would care."

Hermione leaned her forehead against Ginny's, who nodded fervently. "There is nothing in this world I'd love more than spending the rest of my life with you, Hermione."

They kissed again. Hermione wiped Ginny's tear-soaked cheeks dry with her thumb, and her smile faded, her voice was serious again, "Do you believe there is such thing as a parallel universe, Ginny? Where we could live out this…fantasy?"

The colour of Ginny's face drained once the meaning of Hermione's words reached her. "What…but…I'm serious," she stammered. "I can deal with everything you're scared of, Hermione, please. I'm serious. Stay…"

Hermione held the expressionless emotion on her face, tried not to twitch a muscle to give out what she really felt. What if all their feelings right now were just a result of not being together openly? That they loved each other just for the kick of it? Ginny had always loved the risk, no matter what the risk was…

Hermione shook sadly her head. "I don't want to be the reason of you and Harry splitting up. Nor do I want you giving up on the wonderful life with which Harry can provide you."

Hermione was a self-sacrificing person by nature, aside the said reason, she didn't want to disappoint Mrs Weasley, who was so proud of her only daughter, finally getting married to the one and only man everyone knew Ginny had truly loved.

"No. I want to be with you. I made a mistake in letting you go and going back to Harry because I was so scared that I was going to lose you anyway. I know I've hurt you. But you have to understand; I've been with Harry for four years. We're engaged. I just wanted to make things work."

"I know," Hermione said, swallowing down the knot in her throat. "And you can still make it work. I know the feeling of empty betrayal, Ginny. I've experienced it myself." She noticed her voice trembling when, once again, she remembered Ron's dishonourable move from one girlfriend to the other. "I want to go away. I will go with Matthew to Canada and live with him there," she said with a steady voice. "We're actually dating now."

"What…" Ginny choked.

"We're leaving on Saturday. I know things have moved quickly with him and me, but I just want to leave this … _goddamn_ life, go somewhere else, start all over again, and focus on my career, and eventually fall in love again. After all, I deserve to be happy, too, don't you think?" Hermione said, trying to convince herself by speaking loudly and clearly. She chose these words, aimed to wound on purpose, that everything that Ginny could have with her, she would then have with Matthew. "And I won't make it to your wedding," she finally said.

"What? _No!_" Ginny said, slowly recovering from the initial shock. "No!" she almost yelled, clutching Hermione's wrists.

"Ginny, that hurts."

"No! You're not leaving!" Ginny cried. "I'm sorry I said all those things. I've hurt you, I know, don't punish me by leaving. I'm sorry, please."

"You can't make up your mind, can you?" Hermione said.

"Hermione, please! _Please_…stay with me," Ginny begged as if Hermione had never spoken, throwing her arms around Hermione's neck.

"Ginny, let go of me," Hermione demanded, trying to pry off Ginny's clutches. She knew that if she gave in and stayed, they would not only hurt their family and friends, but maybe she, herself, included. Ginny was after all not consistent with her decisions. What if she wanted Hermione now, and tomorrow Harry?

Ginny cried in Hermione's arms, her body shaking, snapping Hermione out of her thoughts. She shook her head and repeated, a bit harsher this time, "Would you please _let go of me_?"

Ginny couldn't stop crying, but obliged anyway.

"Tell Harry I'm sorry I can't make it on Sunday," Hermione said again, gathering her senses, steadying her composure, relieved that her voice wasn't quavering. She brushed the crinkles from her blouse and combed her dishevelled hair with her hand, her knees feeling weak.

Without as much as a backward glance, she walked out of the room.

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"Hermione, there you are," Mrs Weasley said, serving the food on the magically expanded table. "Where's Ginny? I've sent Luna to call you downstairs a while ago. GINNY!" she called again towards the stairs.

Hermione quickly looked away, before Mrs. Weasley could register her distressed expression.

"Auntie 'MIONE! Auntie 'MIONE!" came a squeaky childish voice, and then two tiny arms wrapped around Hermione's legs.

"Oh, Teddy, you're so big now," she said, patting the little boy's head. She stooped down to be eye level with Lupin's only son, and took him into her arms. "I didn't know you were here too. Tell me how old you are now."

Teddy held up four tiny fingers and grinned toothily. His dark brown hair transformed into a light shade of bluish-green. "Four."

"Wow, big boy," Hermione said proudly.

"Uncle Harry said I'm ring boy. I'll carry his ring for Auntie Ginny. Granny buyed me new black shoes that I will wear on the big event. Are you ring boy, too, Auntie Mione?" Teddy spluttered in excitement, an arm around Hermione's shoulder.

"Your Granny bought you new black shoes?" Hermione said, correcting the young boy's grammar before answering his question. "Being ring boy is only for little boys like you."

"But I'm not little. I'm a big boy now. I'm four." Teddy pouted, his hair turning darkish grey..

"Alright, alright," Hermione giggled, grateful for the distraction. "You are a big boy."

"If I'm ring boy, what would you be, Auntie Mione?"

Hermione bit her lower lip. Mrs Weasley was in hearing range, conjuring an amuse-bouche from the stove and placing it on the table. How was she going to tell her about her sudden departure? About her letting down Ginny on her wedding day? No matter from which perspective she viewed it, she'd already spoiled everything.

"Hermione, is everything alright?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Good, because you look a bit pale, sweetheart. You can take a seat now. Teddy, why don't you wash your hands, darling? The food will now be served," Mrs Weasley said, placing a serving plate with a giant roasted chicken on the centre of the table, throwing another sideways glance at Hermione.

"I'm starving," Ron groaned when he entered the room. He rubbed his stomach, his bloated girlfriend closely followed.

"GINNY! Come downstairs!" Mrs Weasley called again. "What's this kid doing there? Ron, afterwards, call you sister. Will you? And will you please help Teddy wash his hands?"

"Mum, I'm almost starving. And Teddy is not _my_ son, not _my_ fosterling," Ron said.

"Ron!" Mrs Weasley's voice pierced the air.

"Teddy's got _no_ parents at all, Ron!" Hermione said angrily, "What's the matter with you?"

"Why does Uncle Ron not like me?" Teddy asked curiously, looking from one shouting adult to the other.

Mrs Weasley scooped the boy up to hug him. "No, don't think that. Uncle Ron's only had a bad day."

"Sorry, mate, didn't mean that," Ron said to the boy, his eyes weary. He patted the boy's back and kissed his head.

Undoubtedly, Ron wasn't his usual self lately, what with him resigning his dream job as an Auror, starting a new, less lucrative one as a vendor in Diagon Alley, having a double shift at the joke shop, while having a pregnant and nagging girlfriend at home.

"Mrs Weasley, I don't think I can stay for lunch," Hermione said before she'd lose herself by hexing her ex boyfriend, and turned to the older witch.

"Sweetheart, what are you talking about?" Mrs Weasley said. "You stay, afterwards is dress fitting, remember? I know we're running out of time because of the sudden, unexpected date for the wedding, but I swear I couldn't convince Ginny to reschedule it on a later date, like a couple of more months at least until after Harry's Quidditch tournament. But you know Ginny's persistence and stubbornness," Mrs Weasley said, shaking her head, "if she wants something, she wants it bad, and she wants it at once. Is everything alright, Hermione? You should take a seat. I don't want you collapsing on the floor, my dear."

"Ginny, come downstairs!" Ron yelled impatiently from the stairs. "What's she doing up there?" he muttered, before jogging upstairs to his sister's childhood bedroom.

Mrs Weasley turned to Hermione after she placed Teddy beside the chair of Victoire. The toddler was banging her spoon against her table, squealing in delight as Teddy transformed his face into a Cyclops for her. Lavender took a seat opposite the children, looking repulsed at Teddy's changed form.

"Can you stop that? It's freaking me out," Lavender scolded the child, but now Teddy too banged his spoon against his plate. "Ugh, these children are driving me nuts!"

Hermione couldn't help but wonder what sort of parents Ron and Lavender were going to be, and suddenly felt a surge of pity for their unborn child.

"Mum, Mum!" Ron called when he returned to the kitchen, jumping down the last two steps.

"What's wrong?" Mrs Weasley twisted around. Hermione's head snapped at his direction, taken aback by the panic in his voice.

Ron was panting, completely out of breath. He had a piece of parchment clutched in his hand, handing it over to his mother.

"Mum, Ginny isn't in her room! She left this note, I reckon she ran away!"

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**(A/N: Again, thanks for all the kind comments. Keep them coming, even if they are just 1 or 2 words. And what do you think of the chapter? Ginny sucks at this point, I know. But who do you think she'll end up with?)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I've edited this chapter like 4-5 times. I'm not sure if I caught all errors, flaws, or grammar. If you find any, you can point them out. I'd love that. :)**

**Thanks for all the kind comments. ^___^ Woot!**

**This chapter is kind of a 'filler'. **

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**Chapter 8 – Unfaithful**

"Harry? Are you awake?" she asked tentatively.

Her small frame stirred beside him, now facing Harry. Harry did not reply, he was lying on his back, staring absent-mindedly at the high-ceilinged hotel room. She rested her head delicately on his chest to listen to his heartbeat, and ran her slender hand over his bare chest.

"What is it, Harry?" She looked up and kissed his jaw, but still he didn't stir, didn't move, didn't look at her. Why bother? Why ruining this wonderful moment with 'talking' when they hardly had time together—alone, and doing whatever they were good at: sex.

"Harry," she breathed against his skin, stroking his stubby cheek.

There was his name again and it meant he had to look at her. Her voice seemed miles away, distant, like she was talking through a thick brick wall, yet she was only right there curled up beside him. Harry inhaled deeply her intoxicating sweet scent, putting a protective arm around her shoulders, to pull her closer, to feel her warm and soft body against him. That's all he needed right now: just her. Her long, vibrant red hair cascaded from her shoulders and tickled his nose, he brushed them gently aside with his hand. How happy he was that she was here now—with him, just them, together.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, leaning closer to nuzzle her nose tenderly against his. Harry smiled. How playful she was, always making him smile even though he didn't feel like smiling, and exactly that was what he admired so much about her. Her smile was infectious. She was so beautiful, so lovely and sweet. How can he be so cruel, taking advantage of the kind-heartedness of her?

"Is it _her_ you're thinking about?" she asked again, and this time Harry's attention was focused on her mouth. He scanned her face with his eyes as though he had never seen her until this moment, and yet they had known each other for a few years now. Harry knew he had stronger feelings for her than mere infatuation, love even, though not the sort of love he should be feeling for her.

"Hmm?" Harry's brows twitched, for a moment unconfused as though the beautiful creature in his arms was talking in a language he didn't understand.

"You're thinking about Ginny, aren't you?" It was rather a rhetorical question because the answer was so obvious. Of course, he'd been thinking about _her_. He was always thinking about her.

"What makes you think so?" Harry winced inwardly at the sound of his fiancée's name, forcing to swallow down the dryness in his throat. Still, he couldn't help but deny it. Running his fingers through that silky and wavy hair of his lover, and then cupping her cheek softly, suddenly a wave of regret and guilt overwhelmed Harry. "What great thing have I done to make you stay with me, Francine?" he asked in a soft voice, the voice he rarely used on _her_. "You deserve so much better than me."

"You mean aside saving the wizarding world, what other great things you've done? Let me think…" She drummed her fingertip against her lower lip as if pretending to think, a small smile curving her lips, teasing him. Her chocolate-brown eyes, though, reflected the sadness she was really feeling. Of all the women he could have picked to cheat on his fiancée, why did he have to choose someone who resembled _her_ so much?

"My wedding is in two days."

This wasn't a reminder meant for the young woman he was cradling in his arms, but more for himself. And he saw her flinch slightly, his words stinging her, yet she masterly managed to conceal her real emotions. Not taking his eyes off of hers, he added, "And I will marry _her_." As though Ginny's name stuck in Harry's throat, not finding it's way out over his lips. "She needs me. And I know she loves me all the same."

Francine rolled on her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows, examining Harry's face, like it were the last time they would see each other.

In that moment, when despite the fact that Harry would marry another woman in Francine's eyes, still, Francine seemed to have accepted her fate already: being just _the other woman_ in Harry's life. Francine didn't cry, she hardly weep, she never whined, she didn't sulk like a little girl like Ginny always does when she didn't get what she wants. Francine would never argue over trivial, frivolous, petty things and make a scene in front of everyone just to humiliate him. Francine was two years younger than Harry, but still acted more mature than his fiancée or than himself. Harry assumed it was because Ginny had always been the baby in her family, so her childish way had marked her personality until her adulthood.

Harry had met Francine a year ago when she was eighteen years old and joined the Quidditch team, two years after her graduation from Beauxbatons. She was born in England, had English parents but her family had moved to France when she turned eleven. Harry and she became good friends at once. When Harry told her that he had a girlfriend, nothing had changed between them. Francine had been nice to Harry right from the beginning, he figured out very soon that she wasn't after him because he was famous or the Quidditch team captain like Ginny had accused her of.

When did Ginny become so jealous at the other women Harry had been friends with? She never seemed to have problems with it before. She had once told him she would trust him. Did Ginny love him so much that she feared to lose him? But then how come that lately if they would make love to each other, Ginny seemed…cold, so distant in her mind, like she wasn't there completely. She would press her eyelids shut, refusing to see reality, to see him, while her face crumbled in pain. When Harry would ask what the matter was, he would see tears glistening in her eyes, and she'd just demand to just finally _finish_.

There was no passion anymore. She had long stopped ripping his shirt off and craving his body. She had long stopped saying 'I love you'. She had long stopped looking at him and seeing him.

And had it been a half year since Ginny began acting so _strange_? Harry felt that their relationship wasn't working anymore. He felt that it was not just because of his friendship to Francine, which he kept on reassuring to Ginny that there was nothing more between them. He would have ended it for her, if Ginny had demanded it, just to make it work for them. But apparently, it wasn't the solution to their problem. At first, of course, there was nothing going on between him and Francine. But Ginny practically _forced_ him to cheat on her. Did she? Did she really push him in the arms of another woman with her behaviour?

Had a month passed since their bridal shower? There was something deeper in Ginny's anger and jealousy. Harry let the one incident that crossed his mind replay again, the one that had been a defining moment in their relationship…

They had been having one of those preposterous fights again, another purposeful violent conflict, in their bedroom during the party. Their guests were in the living room, having a good time. Loud music was blasting away through the walls, laughter of Ron and George was to be heard. Harry could not quite recall how the fight had spun so effortlessly out of control that he and Ginny ended up shouting at each other in their bedroom. A knock on the door interrupted the couple's shouting, as Hermione's head popped between the crack of the door.

"Is everything alright?" Harry remembered Hermione asking in the room, her eyes darting warily between Ginny and Harry. "Ron is looking for some peanuts."

Sure, she only came to Ginny's rescue. As always.

Harry threw his hands in the air, while storming past Hermione, he mumbled, "Why _can't_ she just grow up? Merlin, she's not a God-damn child anymore!" Not even looking back at Ginny, he left her and his female best friend behind.

Now it seemed as though that had been a big mistake.

Harry wondered why he had left the two alone. Why didn't he come back to Ginny and took her into his arms, when all she needed was his attention. In his rage, he was too blind to see that. Wasn't it that what women want was attention? Why had he let Hermione comfort Ginny instead? If he had paid more attention to Ginny, then maybe Ginny had not acted so strange, thus, the inevitable had been avoided, like his infidelity. Would the woman he was laying next to now Ginny and not Francine?

His mind drifted back to the memories of that fateful day. "He loves you, Ginny." Harry had heard Hermione talking to her; both sitting on the edge of the bed. "Let him just enjoy the party, and you should do it, too. It's your bridal shower, after all."

Ginny had seemed to be struggling with the right words. She had looked Hermione long enough in the face, lost in her eyes, before she said, "That bint, this snotty wench! I can't believe she's flirting with…with Harry," she said, wiping her eyes dry on her sleeve. "And Harry just let it happen."

"Well, what if he doesn't pay attention to her flirtatious acts at all and is just being nice? You know how he is. He is a very kind man, polite, respectful."

"Damn him!" Ginny had said.

"Ginny, you can't seriously be that jealous of her, can you? Come here." Harry had watch through the crack of the door Hermione pulling Ginny closer as Ginny started sobbing in her arms. Ginny didn't hesitate to pull her close, as if she'd waited for this embrace to happen.

And Harry had to lean almost closer to the door to hear the whispered words Ginny said to Hermione, her face nuzzling Hermione's neck gently, or at least he thought so. He couldn't really tell from the angle he had been watching them. "I'm happy you're here, Hermione."

"Of course," Hermione had said, smiling. "Why would I miss the most important party of your life? Christ, you're getting married soon."

"No, I didn't mean that," Ginny said, her face almost stricken in agony. Her hand traced over Hermione's cheek, and then she cupped it tenderly with her hand. The many times Harry had watched them being affectionate, never had he felt this absurd pang of threat. And he didn't even understand why. "I'm happy you're _here_…with me," Ginny mouthed.

With that, Ginny's face had moved closer to Hermione's.

Harry had never found out whether they had kissed or not, because Ron and Seamus had pulled him from the door, laughing, tugging him back to the party crowd.

"And do _you_ love her, Harry?" Francine asked tentatively now, bringing Harry back from his deepest memories.

Silence.

Why was it hard for him to answer this simple question? He loved Ginny, wasn't it clear to everyone or to himself? Most importantly, _why_ did he doubt his feelings for her? Hermione and Ginny, together, that was just too absurd to think about. Hermione preferred blokes, he had known her since they were children and never was there a sign that Hermione might be attracted to other women.

Looking back at Francine's warm eyes, he smiled sadly. He was going to marry Ginny Weasley in less than two days. Ginny, the love of his life.

_Yes, of course I love her. I love my Ginny. Didn't I?_

Instead of voicing out his thoughts, Harry inhaled deeply, and said, "I'm not sure anymore."

*.*.*.*

Ginny walked through the busy streets unfamiliar to her, her beige-black rucksack pressed against her chest, her red hair sticking to her tear-soaked face. She looked up for the first time, surveying her surrounding, not knowing what she did there in the first place.

"Bienvenue, mademoiselle, profitez de votre séjour," she was greeted at the Portkey station by a tall man in black suit; he smiled warily when he watched Ginny past him by. "Enjoy your stay," he'd added in his French accent.

How did she end up in this place, there in the streets of Paris?

All she remembered was scribbling a brief note to her mother, then with still tears in her eyes, she was talking to an assistant at the Internal Portkey station.

And now she was here.

She took a seat on a nearby bench and hugged her rucksack tightly that provided the comfort she needed. Looking at her shaking hands, she sighed deeply as new tears filled her eyes again.

_Harry. _

In less than two days she would marry Harry Potter. She loved him—damn it! Why did she have to keep reminding that to herself? And why was she so scared, so torn inside and worried to face the most significant day of her life?

Ginny excused her anxiety that everybody got cold feet before their wedding. Her entire life would change once she said "I do" to Harry in front of the altar. She would promise him a lifelong commitment, love, loyalty, devotion. All thoughts of shagging her husband's female best friend would be unthinkable. She had to get it out of her mind, out of her system.

_How exciting that is, sweetheart,_ Ginny heard her mum's voice in her head, after her announcement at the Burrow about Harry's proposal. _Harry is such a good man, Ginny. I've always considered him as family._

Ginny cried again. She remembered the many times when Harry and she had fought about ridiculous issues, some of them merely because of her childish outburst and tantrums.

"_Harry, isn't that obvious? That woman is flirting with you!" Ginny exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "Why did you invite her over?"_

"_Francine's my team mate, Ginny," Harry replied patiently. "I've invited my whole team. Don't you think that it would be just unfriendly of me, as the team captain, if I'd exclude one of my team members because my girlfriend thinks she's a flirt?"_

_Ginny was pacing up and down their bedroom floor, arms flailing, a scowl on her face. Francine had been congenial and polite, even to Ginny. Maybe she smiled too many times at Harry and made him laugh, more than was necessary. But that wasn't the reason Ginny felt really pissed. She wasn't pissed at the woman being flirtatious towards her fiancé, or at everything at the party, or at Ron's substandard jokes or Seamus's indiscreetness. _

_No. And most certainly wasn't it because of one of Harry's team mates had been fawning on Hermione the entire evening. None of that was the reason. _

_Ginny was diverting her anger at Harry, since she had no bloody rights to be mad at Hermione. She had no rights after all._

How ridiculous it all felt right now. How silly she might have seemed to him.

That time, Ginny had just accepted her growing affection for her closest friend. She'd spent most of the times with her when Harry was away on Quidditch practice or tour. Hermione showed her greatest appreciation when Ginny had been there for her when Ron had left Hermione two years ago. She had been kind and considerate to Hermione, thoughtful and everything that friends should be.

Her stomach still tingled when she remembered back then when she'd given Hermione a love-bite on the shoulder, demonstrating how it felt like being bitten there.

"Bite me," she'd remembered Hermione demanding, pulling down her shirt to expose her delicate skin.

It had just been a friendly act between two friends. How could Ginny know she'd enjoy the sight of her friend sighing in delight at her gentle bite?

Little did Ginny know that her plan had backfired, because the more time she had spent with Hermione, the more she had fallen for her. Everything had changed since then, since their first kiss in the pub while dancing on the dance floor. Ginny could still feel Hermione's lips lingering on hers. Hadn't it just been an hour ago when she last kissed Hermione—in her desperation—in her childhood bedroom at the Burrow? Before Hermione announced she was going to leave with somebody else? Before Ginny had Disapparated, leaving nothing back but a message to her family?

That fateful evening at Ginny and Harry's bridal shower, when she had this stupid fight with Harry and Hermione had appeared at the door, Ginny felt elated. Just to see her that very moment, as though she had not seen her for so long, even if she had been watching Hermione during her conversation with that Quidditch beater during dinner. That moment when she had appeared at the door, it was like releasing her breath that she had been holding the whole evening.

"_Is everything alright?" Hermione asked, looking unease once Ginny and Harry stopped shouting. "Ron is looking for some peanuts."_

_Harry had walked out of the room, shaking his head in disbelief. He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, but Ginny didn't bother to listen. Her sole attention was abruptly captured by her brown bushy haired friend standing at the door. _

_Hermione sat beside Ginny on the edge of the bed, smiling sympathetically and brushing a strand of hair out of Ginny's face when she noticed that Ginny was crying. _

"_He loves you, Ginny," Hermione assured her, as though trying to read Ginny's mind. As if she knew the reason what Ginny and Harry had been fighting about. She was known to be smart and perceptive, but damn, why didn't she see that _she_ was the reason for Ginny's misery? _

_Ginny released yet another sigh, it took all her self-control not to cry out loudly and tell Hermione that the reason why she was so mad at the world and the people around her, was all because of Hermione._

_Again, she had no rights to be mad at her._

_Hermione said something, but Ginny's mind was too far away, as more of her angry tears ran uncontrollably down her cheeks. She blinked the tears away and tried to speak, while leaning into the soft caresses of Hermione's hand on her head, on her cheek. _

Ginny could not completely remember what else she had told Hermione, with what words or excuses she had mislead her caring friend. But she recalled the next words that had followed.

"_I'm happy you're here, Hermione." A voice spoke so softly, until Ginny realised that it was her own._

_Hermione smiled slyly, and answered, "Or course. Why would I miss the most important party of your life? Christ, you're getting married soon."_

"_No, I didn't mean that," Ginny told her, inhaling deeply. Now her own hand moved up to touch the softness of Hermione's warm skin. "I'm happy you're _here_…with me."_

_And then she leaned forward, aiming for Hermione's lips. It would now finally happen, Ginny thought. Her heartbeat pounded in her own ears, but just almost before their lips met, she changed the direction and kissed Hermione at the corner of her lips instead, almost on the cheek. Kissing her like a friend._

Because that's what they were.

*.*.*.*

Ginny rose from the bench when she felt a raindrop landing on her face. She looked up to the greyish sky and hurried quickly down the street. She had to see Harry right now. And now she remembered again—wasn't that the reason why she Apparated to Paris? To see her fiancé and tell him the damn truth?

But, how? Tell him that she had been unfaithful to him for months? Even though nothing happened then, still, she had devoted her mind and soul to somebody else than Harry, which constituted as cheating, too. And then the ultimate cheating had started two weeks ago, when she started being physical with that person. Harry would be certainly not considerate about the fact that she cheated on him, even more so if he'd find out it was with another woman. And not any woman, but with his best friend—with Hermione.

Not only was she Harry's best friend, she was Ron's ex girlfriend, too.

Ginny pressed her eyelids shut.

_Harry, I love you, but there is something I have to tell you,_ Ginny heard herself saying in her head. _Please hear me out._

_Whatever it is, you can talk to me, love._ She imagined Harry would say. _What's the matter? Why do you look so upset? Is everything alright?_

_Harry, it was my fault. I didn't mean to ruin everything between us, I didn't mean any of it to happen but it just did. _

_What is it?_

_I love you, Harry, Merlin knows I do. Please forgive me, but I—I had…_

Ginny shook her head—not even in her mind she could make the confession to Harry. How would it be in person, if she'd look at him in the eye?

Hiding her face in her hands and leaning against the nearest wall for support when she got up from the bench, Ginny felt the world spin.

_What is it, Ginny?_ She heard Harry urging in her mind..

_Harry, I love you, I broke your trust and fate in me because of what I did. It'll never, ever happen again. You're my life, Harry. Please. I'm so sorry. _

"Bullshit!" Ginny cursed, closing her eyes. The sky broke above her as it started raining.

* * *

**A/N: I've just posted the prequel to this story, and it's called LOVE BITE. Check it out and leave a comment. Please, please, please. :D I might even consider writing another. I'm still lacking inspirations, though. Any ideas? :p**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update. I've been trying to work on several stories at once, and then ended up starting a completely new story! Shame on me! Aside from that, since I've joined the world of facebook the applications there are keeping me distracted. Plus, my work in real life, which is really draining me of physical and mental energy. But thanks for your PM's and reviews that urged me to update faster. *coughs*  
**

**By the way, you will hate me for making Ginny's character like this: so indecisive, immature, petulant. When I first wrote this story, I must admit I wasn't a big fan of her. **

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the Potterverse.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Make This Heartache Stop**

Her head hurt. Hermione didn't know whether she was angry or disappointed when she entered her flat and slammed the door shut. She didn't know whether she should cry or laugh, so she did both—a pained kind of stuttering laugh because she didn't want to scream. She wiped the tears from her eyes and threw her purse and robe in her wardrobe, then walked to her kitchen and poured herself a generous amount of red wine into a glass.

_Great_, Hermione thought, sipping at her wine. The consumption of alcohol had led her to believe that sleeping with Harry's fiancée was all right in the first place.

_Ginny…she'd gone to see Harry._

"Threading the fine line between me and Harry, huh?" she asked into her glass, half expecting it to answer. The wine made her head feel instantly light-headed, woozy. God, she wasn't used to consuming alcohol anymore, but still, it was serving its purpose of numbing her mind. It was easier to block the images that came flooding back with another big gulp of her wine. Still, there was this tingling prickle that lingered on her lips, in her belly, like running across the field of sunflowers.

She couldn't believe she'd let Ginny go. Ginny had been ready to leave everything behind for her—and she'd let her go.

As though Mrs. Weasley was still standing in front of her, throwing that look at her that could cut raw flesh as if it was _her_ fault that Ginny ran away, as if Mrs. Weasley had known all the time that both, Ginny and Hermione, had been fooling around behind everyone's back. Mrs. Weasley just knew it, she wasn't easy to fool. There was disappointment in the older witch's eyes, as if her suspicion had been confirmed when Hermione had fallen silent, mentally paralysed.

Hermione knew that something was wrong even before she looked at Ron's distressed face, knew that Ginny was gone even before Ron announced his sister's sudden departure to his mother, knew what was written on the note, which Ginny had left to her family, even before Mrs. Weasley read it aloud.

'I need to talk to Harry.'

"What's so urgent that Ginny couldn't wait until he comes back home tomorrow night?" Ron had asked in the room, confusion on his face.

"She got cold feet," Lavender had said from the kitchen table. Even _she_ didn't dare to twitch a muscle and smile or giggle.

It was Mrs. Weasley's sad, or reproachful, or disappointed look that had made Hermione gasping for air, and wanting to leave. Next thing Hermione knew, she'd stormed out of the door—the first time she didn't care about getting Splinched—and Disapparated from the Burrow.

*.*.*.*

"Excusez-moi, mademoiselle," the long faced receptionist drawled in her French accent as she eyed Ginny sceptically. "You say you are monsieur Potter's fiancée, mademoiselle?"

"Last time I checked, yes," Ginny said impatiently, her annoyance growing. The receptionist had scanned her with the wand for Identification, asked Ginny for her Wizarding ID, and even signed the registration form for visitors, and still there were doubts about her identity. It was worse than in Gringott's, Ginny thought. These people were acting like Harry Potter was some valuable object. "I _am_ Ginevra Weasley and I want to see Harry right now. So would you just please give me his bloody suite number?" She slammed her palms on the desk, causing a loud noise to echo through the lobby.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped behind the receptionist, intervening in the disaster taking place at the counter. "Mademoiselle, may I 'elp you?" Ginny stared at him for a moment, her eyes flickering from his pointed chin to a gold badge pinned neatly on his chest which read 'André Gerard—Manager.' He picked up Ginny's Wizarding ID card from the counter, reading it carefully before flicking his wand over it, checking for forgery just like the receptionist a short moment ago. Once sure it was not a fake, he returned it to her.

"Thank you. I need to know which room Harry Potter is checked in," Ginny repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time since she had entered _L'Hotel Magnifique_. The lobby was full of tourists decked out in brightly coloured robes and sunglasses, and behind her there were people—wizards and muggles—queuing, an impatient frown on their faces.

"I am Ginny—_Ginevra_ Weasley," she started once again, but had managed to compose herself this time. "I want to pay Harry Potter an urgent visit. We are getting married in two days, you see, and I won't be able to see him after tomorrow night because of this stupid tradition my mother insist should be followed. And this is an _emergency_. I need to talk to him. Right. Now."

The hotel manager and the receptionist exchanged a hesitant look before the manager nodded curtly and signed Ginny's registration form. Ginny's hopes that people would always recognise her as being the famous Harry Potter's fiancée were probably too high. Even though she had appeared in Quidditch magazines with Harry, people seemed to have eyes just on the star and not on the insignificant little dot by his side. Had he been with so many women already that people could no longer tell who 'the woman in his life' was and who was 'just a girl he hung out with'?

The thought about Harry being surrounded by other women made Ginny swallow hard. After all these years she had only just gotten used to the thought.

"Pardon, mademoiselle Weasley," the manager apologised, breaking into Ginny's thoughts. "Zer was probably just a little confusion and we thought that monsieur Potter was already wiz you in his suite. Zat was our fault, not zat of yours. Uh, monsieur's suite iz twenty-one fifteen, in building A. We are only being careful about les admirateurs 'oo pretend to be someone else just to invade his rooms. Would you follow me zen, mademoiselle? Zis way."

Ginny swung her bulky rucksack over her right shoulder and followed the manager along the corridor, watching as his copper hair caught the light.

"For ze lifts just go down zis way," Monsieur Gerard said, indicating a small, well-lit hallway.

"Thank you, Monsieur Gerard." Ginny smiled, a little too forced maybe. "Er—could I please, erm—if it's possible, get the key to his suite? This is going to be a surprise visit."

"Ah oui, no problem," he answered, "just un second." He went back to the lobby and returned quickly, handing the key over to Ginny. "'ave a nice stay, mademoiselle. And bon chance wiz ze wedding."

"Well, um, je vous remercie beaucoup, monsieur." Ginny remembered the phrase how to say 'thank you very much' from Fleur, though inwardly frowning; she beamed and walked towards the lift that only the 'crème de la crème' could use, which led to the largest suites of this luxurious hotel.

The lift closed just as Ginny walked around the corner, so she waited for the next one to arrive. Becoming agitated, she pressed the button several times, heaving one last sigh when the next lift arrived. Ginny walked through the intricate doors and pressed the button for the twenty-first floor, her bag pressed tightly against her chest as she attempted to quell the feeling of nausea overcoming her.

*.*.*.*

Hermione walked to her living room and allowed her eyes to wander over it, feeling like a stranger in her own little flat. She looked from the windows to the chimney over to the black leather couch as a memory washed over her; one that only happened less than two weeks ago. She closed her eyes while in her mind she watched a woman with bushy brown hair sitting on her couch, a glass of pumpkin juice in her hand and a cookie in the other. She appeared to be quite nervous as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

There was another woman in the room, a yard away from the other, standing in front of the picture frames that were resting on the chimney sill. She was nibbling on a cookie, too. The nervous-looking woman was staring at the other woman's back, where wavy, red hair cascaded down her shoulders. Her attention was focused on the picture frames, scrutinising each one of them. There was one that particularly caught her attention, and she looked at it longer than at the others. There was something in her eyes that lit up her entire face all of a sudden, as though a wonderful realisation had hit her. She turned suddenly around to face the woman on the couch.

_I was wondering if you could imagine baking these cookies_—she held up her cookie and nodded towards the plate on the table_—just for me, for the rest of your life?_

Hermione heard Ginny's words echo in her ears, and her heart throbbed faster in her chest, like little fists pounding against her ribcage. The emphasis was on _for the rest of your life_. Yes, Hermione knew what Ginny meant; she understood the hidden meaning in the question, and she knew why she had nodded eagerly at Ginny.

Hermione reopened her eyes as she moved to the place where memory-Ginny had stood, walking towards the picture frames. She picked up the frame her friend had examined. Maybe, Hermione thought, she would find the answer there, too. The answer to the question she had been asking herself for a long time now: _when _have_ these feelings started?_

Then she saw what Ginny had seen, what Hermione had never noticed before, or rather something she never had paid attention to:

There, just a millisecond on the moving snapshot, Ginny's and Hermione's eyes locked secretly, to Harry's unawareness, before he tugged the redhead back to the safety of his arms. A look only the two girls understood, before it was interrupted by Harry playfully pulling on Ginny's waist. His arms wrapped Ginny from behind, hugging her tightly. Ginny, never letting go of Hermione's hand, her chocolate brown eyes never leaving Hermione's.

Why had Hermione never noticed this before? That Muggle saying…actions speak louder than words, wasn't it? Everything she had ever felt was right there, captured on that photo taken almost over a year ago. Ron and Hermione had just broken up then, during the Christmas when Hermione had refused to visit the Burrow, simply to avoid seeing her ex boyfriend and Lavender together every time he brought her over to his home.

She felt the picture frame in her hand shaking slightly, holding it tighter, the other hand covering her mouth, she tried to steady her breathing. The look in Ginny's eyes—was it possible that it could be just a look of compassion, of sympathy or even pity over her cheating brother? The look in Hermione's eyes on the picture, which she had always interpreted as a nonverbal expression of gratitude towards Ginny, who had been there for her from the beginning and never left. Their entwined hands—was that the symbolic meaning of Ginny never letting go of Hermione? No matter whom she married, no matter with whom she lived? No! It meant more than the silent promise between two friends. It was an unspoken vow to love each other and never let go.

But both of them _did_ let go.

Hermione laughed with tears in her eyes and pushed away the memories of the person she should not have fallen in love with; Ginny Weasley—her voice, her smile, her eyes, her touch, her scent…Hermione heard Ginny's plea in her mind over and over again, saw that dejected freckled and beautiful, young face in front of her, as Hermione felt once again the same reaction in her chest. She regretted her own decision when she had left Ginny. A vengeful part of her that she had developed from her first hurtful experience with Ron, that wanted to repay Ginny the same pain she had caused Hermione for leaving her in the first place.

_Let's run away together, Hermione._

*.*.*.*

Francine pulled the blanket over her head and turned on her side, she mumbled, "Yes, I know. Just a minute."

Harry heard a small sob coming from under the blanket, tried to pull it off, but she kept it stubbornly over her head. "Please don't do this to me," he begged, stroking her shoulder through the thick blanket. "I'm taking the next International Portkey to England in an hour. We can have lunch together before I leave."

"'Don't do that to me?' To _you_, Harry?" Francine repeated in exasperation and pulled down the blanket, her eyes puffy and red, revealing to Harry that she had cried all night. Her lips quavered, but she pressed them together to avoid crying again. She disappeared under the blanket again and muffled, "I'm sorry for being so petulant. You know how I feel, Harry, don't you? But I've accepted it. I agreed to this, didn't I?"

"Please don't cry," Harry said. He tried to pull again on the blanket. "Look at me."

"I can't." Came her sobbing voice.

"We won't stop seeing each other, love." Harry couldn't believe what he had just said. Was he really planning to continue his unfaithfulness towards his soon-to-be wife? He shook his head and corrected himself quickly, "We are playing in the same Quidditch team and I can't afford to lose such an amazing Beater like you."

"That's who I am to you? Just a Quidditch player in your team?"

"We've discussed this already," Harry said patiently, dodging each accusation with a simple statement. He leaned his head down to whisper into her ear through the blanket. At least Francine wasn't shoving him away from her like Ginny always did when she was angry. Ginny would have given him several small punches on his chest and cried like a little sulking girl that didn't get what she wanted. "You mean so much more to me."

"But it's nothing to make you stay with me, isn't it?" she asked back, her voice soft. Her hand poked out of the blanket, searching for his face to rest on his stubby cheek without exposing her tear-soaked face. "I'm sorry for starting my whining again, Harry. Ginny is a wonderful woman and you deserve each other so much."

Harry kissed her palm. "I never meant this to happen, to hurt you and see you like this. But I knew it'd happen someday and it was my fault. I'm sorry."

Francine pulled down the blanket, but Harry didn't see her face; he saw Ginny lying in front of him, smiling at him sympathetically. Her face was in a pool of shiny auburn hair, her eyes brown and glassy from crying, looking at him with so much passion. But when she spoke, Harry heard Francine's voice evading his mind, she smiled sincerely. "It was never your fault, Harry."

A small part of him deep inside wished it was Ginny who said this. Smiling back, he kissed her before walking to the bathroom. He stopped at the threshold, and looked back one last time to Francine on the master bed. A cold shiver ran down his spine as his gaze shifted from Francine's still body now again under the blanket to the picture frame of Ginny on the bedside table. With a shake of his head, he disregarded the unwelcome feeling, closed the bathroom door and stepped under the shower.

*.*.*.*

The door that led to Harry's suite was painted off-white and adorned with golden numbers: 2115. Ginny hesitated a moment before she turned the key. The suite was vast; it must have had two bedrooms, as well as a collection of others and was probably bigger than the ground floor of the Burrow.

"Harry?" Ginny called as she walked through the first door, but no answer came. The living room was enormous, and Harry's belongings were sprawled out everywhere. His broom was leaning against his sports bag, his Quidditch equipment hovering in midair, dripping mud onto the cream carpet.

Ginny stepped inside the largest bedroom; her eyes caught the movement of the red-haired woman in the picture on the bedside table. Smiling, Ginny felt her heart swell with love when she remembered that Harry once told her that he would always carry it with him so that he would never have to feel alone, so that he had something to remember that special someone— his beloved girlfriend and future wife—was waiting for him at home.

Someone stirred on the bed, and Ginny crept closer to it, climbing on top of the layers of blankets to move on the bed towards the mound under the blanket. _Harry?_ she thought, feeling her heart pounding against her chest. A sad smile on her face, happy to see him, but tears formed in her eyes instantly when she remembered why she got there. _I'm so sorry, Harry._

She placed a trembling hand on his shoulder, before kissing the spot. He stirred a bit, but didn't get up. When she ran her hand down his shoulder, he finally moved and changed his position. Ginny noticed something strange about his shape. It was so… curvy, so…_feminine. _And that unusual small frame… Before anything clicked in Ginny's head, the person had already pulled off the blanket.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," the woman cried. In a blink of an eye, Ginny saw long, wavy red hair flashing in front of her, a naked chest, arms wrapping around her neck, and felt soft and warm lips pressed against hers.

In a split second, Ginny remembered Hermione: the feel of her body, that pleasurable feeling when her bare body was pressed against her own. She remembered the sensation of Hermione kissing her, touching her, relishing in every moment together.

*.*.*.*

Harry turned off the shower when he thought he heard a loud scream emanating from the bedroom. Fear and worry overcame him as he tried not to think that Francine had done something bad to herself.

"Francine?" he called in panic, stepping out of the shower cubicle. And then there was another scream. He took a towel and wrapped it around his waist, running out of the bathroom.

His jaw dropped when the first thing his vision caught was that of two red-haired women on his bed who both were not supposed to meet each other _ever_ in this world, staring at each other in shock, while the much younger one hastily tried to cover up her bare chest with the blanket.

*.*.*.*

"Gin—Ginny, what are you d—doing here?"

It was Harry's strangled voice from somewhere. Ginny didn't pay attention to him at first, her eyes still on the woman she had just kissed—or rather; who had kissed her—who she immediately recognised. She was the reason why Ginny and Harry had been fighting about in the past few months. The reason that Ginny herself had created, simply so she could fight with Harry and get his attention: Francine.

She didn't realise that tears were running down her cheeks. Her jaw still slackened in shock, attempting to form a sentence yet no words would ever suffice to express what she was feeling inside. Betrayal.

Harry walked towards her, he muttered something that sounded like a poor attempt of an apology, "Ginny, listen, I—I can explain this." And he tried to reach out for her. But before he could touch her arm, Ginny's palm had already slapped him across the face. She withdrew her arm to her side quickly, the same hand balling to angry, shaking fist. Ginny stopped when she realised what she had done.

Deep inside Ginny knew the slap was meant for her, too. She had cheated on him, too.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Ginny whispered, unclenching her fist and looking down on it.

"No, _I _am sorry, Ginny," Harry said, once he found his voice, his courage to finally speak.

"How long had this been going on?" asked Ginny, her voice quavering, breaking. She avoided looking at him.

There was a movement from the angle of Ginny's eyes, then she looked at the young woman who looked very frightened on the bed. Her head dropped on her lap when Ginny tried to catch her eyes. She was clenching and unclenching the bed cover, not knowing what to do or say, on her face an expression of, maybe dread, that she was facing the woman Harry Potter was going to marry.

Harry coughed in his hand, causing Francine to look up at him in hesitation. Her eyes shifted from Harry to Ginny and back at Harry again. He nodded slightly at her, nonverbally telling her that he was doing fine and can handle the situation. The blanket was wrapped around her body tightly when she got up from the bed. Ginny watched her, with her mind racing wildly, as the woman her fiancé had been sleeping with for how many months she couldn't tell, walked towards the bathroom door and disappeared behind it.

Was this the feeling Hermione had felt when she had found out about Ron and Lavender? Would this have been the feeling when Harry had found out in the same way that Ginny had been sleeping with Hermione, too? She didn't know what was worse: being caught cheating or admitting you have been cheating, too.

Ginny couldn't help herself as she blurted out in uncontrolled anger, in order to ease her own pain and guilt, "I did it too, you know."

Harry stared at her without saying a word, his lips opened to say something, but Ginny didn't let him speak.

"I didn't mean it to happen," she explained lamely. "It _just_ happened and I knew from the beginning it would. I never felt that way before." She smiled at the thought of Hermione, and more tears ran down her cheeks. She didn't wipe them away, didn't care if she let down her defences though she knew Harry hated it if she cried.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, leaning closer, the last bits of colour draining from his face. "Ginny, look at me." He grabbed her arms to make her look at him. "Tell me…"

"We've been living a big, sodding _lie_, Harry! We've been cheating on each other!" She pushed him away from her, regretting and wishing she had done the opposite; she wished she had taken him into her arms and told him they were quits now, they were even, and the wedding could, indeed, go on. Both made a mistake, like a crazy, engaged couple deeply in love doing the unexpected and unusual the night before their wedding.

Harry ran his hand through his wet, dripping hair. Taking a deep breath, he asked the evitable question, "Who is he?"

"That doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter?" he asked in exasperation. "Who, the bloody hell, is he, Ginny? Who?"

"It's not important anymore." Ginny shook her head and made a defensive step backwards. "You never cared, so why now?"

He threw his hands in the air. "I just want to know WHO the hell you've been with when I was away."

"You mean when _you_ were shagging somebody else, too?" She shot him a blazing look of anger.

"Ginny…"

"Now don't bloody tell me that while you were shagging her brains out you've been thinking about me," she yelled, while pointing a threatening finger at his chest. "Don't tell me anymore how paranoid _I_ am for my suspicions regarding your 'friendship' with _her_."

She pushed him aside before he could respond, and ran towards the door.

"Ginny!" he yelled after her.

She reached the front door, took the lift down and ran out of the hotel lobby. She Apparated away to the next Portkey platform, and purchased one to get her home. The person that appeared up in Ginny's mind before she felt the world vanishing around her and felt the familiar pull of her body through the air, was Hermione.

*.*.*.*

It was already dark outside when Hermione stirred in her sofa in the living room, rubbing the wariness off her eyes away, feeling the stiff grasp of exhaustion take over her, even after sleeping. Every muscle of her body was aching, and she realised that she had been sitting in the same position hours ago, and hadn't moved since.

She rubbed her neck and eyed the third glass of wine still on her coffee table, unfinished. Standing up and moving to the bathroom, she splashed her face with cold water and stared at the mirror. Frowning, she noticed the bags beneath her eyes and suddenly felt very old and unattractive. It was no surprise everyone left her.

There was a loud knock on the front door, and, with a sense of curiosity, Hermione went to see who it was. She looked through the peephole and was surprised to see the person she least expected standing on her doormat.

"Oh," she said when she opened the door. She stepped aside and tried to smile. "Come in."

"I thought I'd come over and see how you were doing," he smiled, shrugging off his robe. Hermione looked at him, feeling suddenly uncomfortable around him. He acted like it was _his_ home as he hung his robe in the wardrobe and beamed down at Hermione. "So, are you all right?" He stepped forward and traced his hand carefully over her face. "I missed you."

"Matthew," Hermione said, closing her eyes as if it would make this man vanish from her sight, and out of her life, "this is not the time. I have to pack my belongings and get back to the Burrow before—we leave." Just the thought of leaving with Matthew caused this immense burning in her chest again, making her feel incredibly ill. She would leave her parents, her friends, the Weasleys, and the person that meant the world to her—Ginny. Was running away with a man she didn't even love—_yet_, she reminded herself—really the solution to her problems?

It was _her_ fault Ginny was unhappy. It was _her_ fault that Ginny was mad at her. Why did she decide not to attend her best friend's wedding? If she couldn't go because of Ginny then, at the very least, she owed it to Harry.

"I can help you pack up your stuff," Matthew grinned. He took her small hand and kissed each of her knuckles gently. "This is like making a wish come true. I never thought I'd live to see the day that you and I would leave together and just…be together. Work together. Live together…" He trailed off, leaning closer to kiss her. But Hermione backed away with tears in her eyes.

"Please, don't," she pleaded.

"What's wrong?" Matthew asked.

"Don't do that," she sobbed, withdrawing her hand from his.

"Hermione. I—"

"Stop being so nice to me!" Hermione said louder than was intended. She wiped away the tears from her eyes. "Just stop it!"

He looked at her, full of confusion, waiting for her to explain.

"I can't—I can't love you, Matthew;" she said in a whisper, as if that was explanation enough, wishing he'd understand. Her voice was husky and she swallowed down the knot in her throat. "You're the only one I have right now, yes. And you're so nice; you're here—with me. And I can tell you that right now it means the world to me, but—I just can't…" Hermione shook her head as more droplets ran from her eyes. "Do you understand?"

He smiled at her sadly. "I know," he said, still stepping closer. "I've been waiting so long already to be with you, Hermione. Even when you were dating your ex boyfriend. I'm still waiting. I will always wait for you, Hermione," he reassured her, his blue eyes shimmering with all hopes and dreams. Damn. He wasn't making it easy for her to break his heart

"You don't understand," Hermione repeated, clutching her hand to her chest. "I _can't_. I can't love you—"

"I know—"

Hermione shook her head, to make clear that he _didn't_ understand. "No you don't! You're a lovely guy, you're so nice and have been really compassionate."

"Well, those are definitely reasons to break it up with me," he teased, overplaying his sadness, but Hermione just dropped her head.

She inhaled deeply, once, twice, to gather all her inner strength. With one breath, she said, taking the bull by the horns, "I—I don't like men, Matthew."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Gods, you heard me," Hermione said, chuckling uncomfortably, pulling up her shoulders. Then she released her breath, as though it was the first time she had breathed after many years of holding her breath, after many years of living in denial. But now, she had finally spoken the truth.

Matthew blushed and stared on his shoes. "Was I so mediocre in bed?"

Hermione giggled, for the first time this day she was smiling. Again, why couldn't she love this man? He could make her laugh when she felt like crying. He was there when she needed comfort. But hadn't she just said the answer? She didn't like men.

"It has nothing to do with you. Really, you were… a great lover, but it's just not me." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for Matthew to say something. She was expecting him to burst out in anger for dashing his hopes, for breaking his heart. She was expecting him to leave and slam the door, but what he did next was something she didn't expect. He chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"You're the third girl since Durmstrang who ditched me after she was hit by the realisation that she was gay." He wiped a tear away from his eye, but Hermione knew it was not a tear of laughter, but because he was hurt and humiliated. "Coincidence or it's just me?"

Hermione tightened her arms around her chest and felt suddenly more uncomfortable: her head felt hot in embarrassment. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Are you still coming with me?" he asked, still enthusiastic and hopeful, composing himself now.

"Well, yes, but more for the sake of my job," Hermione replied. "I changed my mind, I'll attend my friends' wedding. I owe it to Harry—and Ginny." She realised that it was the first time she had said Ginny's name out loud. It made her feel warm inside, and the sudden urge to see her again grew with every second. "She did so much for me before." She thought of the many times Ginny had been there for her, saved her from becoming completely insane, cheered her up in moments when she needed someone the most.

Hermione opened the door for Matthew, who grabbed his robe first before he turned back to her again. "Is the other woman Ginny?" he asked, hesitating, one hand on the doorknob.

No words were necessary to convey her answer, it was clear when Hermione's face lit up from the sound of Ginny's name. More tears streamed down her cheeks like a broken dam, and, pressing her lips together to stop them from trembling. When she finally managed to find her voice, she quavered, "She's getting married this Sunday, you know?"

Matthew opened his arms for her, and this time Hermione didn't back away. Instead she broke down crying into his arms. It wasn't the meagre weeping when Ron had left her—this crying was a throat-aching, heart-wrenching sobbing she had never experienced before. Her knees went weak forcing Matthew to support her body.

"Shh," he soothed her. "It'll be alright."

"Please, just make it stop," Hermione pleaded.

*.*.*.*

Ginny Apparated just in front of Hermione's flat door, which to her surprise, was a crack open. She heard someone's soft moaning and sobbing, and soon she realised to whom that voice belonged to. Ginny's heart broke in two, and all she wanted was to take Hermione into her arms and console her, after all it was her fault Hermione was in pain.

"It's all right, Hermione." Ginny's blood froze when she heard a male's voice speaking softly. "Don't cry, please, my love. Shh…"

Ginny pressed her shaking hand to her chest. She couldn't breathe evenly. Peeking through the crack door, Ginny then saw someone she would never have expected to see right now: there was a tall, dark blond haired man, in his arms Hermione's shaking body. She had her arms around his neck, clinging on him like her life depended on him.

"Look, if Ginny loved you too, don't you think she would have already left Harry, apologise for hurting you, and would want to get back with you?" the man asked, and finally Ginny recognised him from the side as Matthew, Hermione's co-worker.

Hermione pulled back slightly to look at the man in front of her, her hands now leaning against his chest, she nodded at him. "Yes, you're right."

Ginny made a step backward from the door.

"Shall we go out for dinner? It'll distract you and…" Matthew said from inside, and in the next moment he opened the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**(A/N: Sorry for taking so long to post this installment. I wasn't motivated and inspired enough to revise the partly-finished chapter. I might have missed some grammar or spelling errors while proofreading this, so please just disregard them. :-/ Thanks for subscribing, a special thanks to those who've left comments. Now THAT has motivated me to update at last. ha-ha. :) Thanks to Moiraine123 for reminding me to update. lol)**

* * *

**Chapter 10 – What About the Wedding?**

Hermione could feel her knees buckle, felt unshed tears clogging her throat, her ragged breathing making her lungs sting and head foggy. She was suffocating. As she pressed her face against Matthew's shoulder, fortifying herself, she remained like this until her sobbing subsided. Her mind drifted off, filling with images of Ginny and where she was right now—with Harry, maybe confessing her infidelity to him and admitting guilt to every question. So that in this very moment, Hermione wondered with joyless irony, if they were both leaning against the arms of the men they were not meant to be with, yet promising them a new start and a blissful, untarnished future.

When she pulled away slightly, to wipe at her eyes and nose, she looked up at Matthew. He was smiling compassionately, stroking her tear-stained cheek with his thumb. She could almost see in his eyes how his heart was bleeding for her, how helpless he seemed seeing her in that miserable state.

"Hush, there now," he said, kissing her forehead, as if he was comforting a little child.

Hermione tried to smile a little, suddenly feeling reduced to a blubbering snotty tearful mess. Crying in front of Matthew was like crying in front of a stranger—it made Hermione feel uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," she said, her mouth felt dry. She laughed a little nervously. "Oh God, this is so awkward for me."

Matthew's lips moved to her ear, he said, cupping her face, "It's fine. It's not like you're the first woman who wept in my arms." He laughed joyously. "You all right now, though?"

Hermione nodded, smiling. He pressed her again against her, even though she had already stopped crying. Stroking her back gently, he whispered in her ear, "It'll all work out, you know, you'll see." He lowered his voice a little, holding her arms. "You don't need her, Hermione."

Closing her eyes, Hermione flinched at his words, because part of her knew that he was right. She didn't look at him, only nodded.

Matthew sighed, he said, "Look, if Ginny loved you too, don't you think that she would have left Harry a long time ago?" He stepped closer still until there was only little space between them, as if urging her to accept him and the unconditional love he was offering, urging her to look at him, to see how she meant the world to him and nothing to Ginny. "In my opinion, she doesn't even know what she wants. If I were her, I'd choose _you _without second thoughts! And I do want you. So much."

Hermione gave a nervous laughter, backing off slightly. "Yes, you're probably right," she said, wiping more tears from her eyes, not looking at him.

After all, Ginny had left _her_ and had gone back to Harry to mend the pieces of her almost shattered relationship with _him_. Hermione's affair with Ginny was nothing to the four years long relationship Ginny had with Harry. They were engaged and their wedding was only days away.

"Shall we go out for dinner? It'll distract you and…" He grabbed her hand, quickly pulling his coat down from where it was hanging and opened the door.

There stood Ginny.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat, jumping back to her throat, making breathing all difficult again. Time froze when their eyes met, like the blood in Hermione's veins. All the reasons why she was angry, the reasons she cried and the reasons she wanted to run away—all that dissolved in that instant moment when she found Ginny Weasley standing in front of her.

"Are you leaving?" Ginny asked coldly, piercingly, her voice shaking a bit—as it used to do, sometimes, in passion. Her rucksack had fallen to the ground, scattering its contents around her feet.

Hermione looked from Ginny to Matthew, who was still holding her hand in his, and nodded. She hadn't realised that she was squeezing Matthew's hand, and was grateful that he squeezed back. The three of them stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other, until, all of a sudden, Ginny stepped forward and pulled Hermione's and Matthew's hands apart by their wrists, as if forcefully separating the two presumable lovers apart.

Ginny stood with her back to Hermione, her wand pointed at Matthew. "Why do have to keep showing up here, you sodding douche-bag?" she exclaimed angrily, "Who gave you the right to show up and play her knight in shining armour? Do you think you can take her away from me?"

Hermione huffed in disbelief, surprise, and indignation. "Don't you think that's a little melodramatic, Ginny?"

Matthew blinked, for a moment dumbfounded. "I'm not taking her away." He looked at Hermione for help, his hands held up. "_She_ wanted it… Tell her, Hermione!"

"You manipulated her, then!" Ginny cried.

"Ginny, stop it!" Hermione tried to calm down her raging friend as she placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder. With her other hand she grabbed Ginny's wand arm and spun her around. "It's not his fault; it's not him to be blamed."

Ginny looked at her beseechingly. "Please, don't leave with him, Hermione. Not now. Not after everything I've just done."

"Ginny," Hermione sighed her name, smiling weakly, feeling foolish tears welling up in her eyes. She brushed the back of her fingers gently over Ginny's cheek. "Matthew and I were only going to have dinner."

Ginny smacked Hermione's hand away, tears filling her eyes. "Damn it! Damn you! Don't you bloody dare make fun of me," she seethed. "Don't!"

Hermione was struck speechless.

Realising the malice in her voice, Ginny bit her lips together, then spoke, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Hermione," she whimpered.

"It's—I…" It had always been a hardship for Hermione seeing Ginny so distraught, seeing her at such a miserable state. It didn't matter now whether Ginny was responsible for her own pain; she just couldn't bear seeing Ginny so torn apart, so dismantled. So she lifted her arms to Ginny, to comfort her, just once again, maybe for one last time again. Ginny didn't hesitate long and soon snuggled up to her.

Hermione felt Ginny loosening her embrace, and felt slightly disappointed before she realised that Ginny had her lips on hers. This took Hermione off-guard, for Ginny never kissed her in front of other people before. She squinted over to Matthew, who was watching them with strange interest and curiosity. His jaw slightly slackened, and Hermione noticed his Adam apple shooting up briefly. She thought that she'd heard his breath hitch.

It felt awkward at first because Hermione was not used to this sudden kind of affection with Ginny, even more so when there was one guy watching them. But when Hermione heard a small moan from Ginny, and felt her body shiver, her attention became focused on those sweet lips that shot a jolt through her body. And without caring anymore who was watching, Hermione returned the kiss with equal passion.

Ginny had pressed Hermione against the wall, a hand held the back of her head, pulling her closer to deepen the kiss. Hermione opened her eyes and, this time, met Matthew's mortified expression; his entire body went rigid.

Yet he didn't seem to be revolted, instead he was watching with unconcealed prurient interest. He swallowed hard again, and shifted on his spot, to have a better view of the show maybe. Hermione, feeling her cheeks blush, restrained the urge to smile.

There was a loud crack outside the door, causing Hermione and Ginny to immediately break apart. The main door, that hadn't been closed properly after Ginny had entered, flew open and the person everybody had least expected to see strode in, fuming.

"I knew you were here!" Harry growled, staring at his fiancée.

Ginny didn't respond. As he shouted, she tentatively pulled her remaining arm from around Hermione's—who was initially confused as to what was happening—neck.

"You can't do this to me, Ginny, you bloody can't!" he bellowed, pushing her towards Hermione's living room, simply with the force of his words. "I went to the Burrow and your mother told me—in tears—that you're cancelling the wedding. You can't bloody do that to me!"

Hermione clasped a hand to her mouth, stifling a gasp. She didn't know Ginny had cancelled the upcoming ceremony.

"I can do whatever I want, you miserable son-of—" Ginny choked on the word, not really wanting to insult Harry like that, then, upon taking a deep breath, she spat at him, "You cheated on me with another woman, Harry!"

"So did you!" came Harry's angry retort.

A collective intake of breath; the room fell silent.

For a tiny split second Hermione thought that Harry knew about them—Ginny and Hermione. That Ginny _did_ tell him everything. That Ginny had ended the wedding because she wanted to be with Hermione. Her heart dripped with anticipation and new hopes as she watched the pair with intense curiosity.

"You cheated too, remember? Who is _he_?" Harry demanded to know.

Stalemate.

With her heart sinking, Hermione understood then. She realised now what had actually happened. Ginny came back to her because she found out that Harry had been cheating on her with another woman. She didn't intend to cancel the wedding first. She went to her fiancé because…because she _did_ want to confess her greatest mistake to him by herself, maybe before Hermione had the chance to. After all she knew Ginny well; she only wanted to clear her conscience before marrying Harry. And before this happened, she had walked in on him bedding another woman.

In her hurt and anger, Hermione didn't think of defending Ginny.

Another crack outside the flat resounded and a young woman strode in hastily, auburn hair flowing over her shoulders, calling for Harry. She walked straight towards the living room, with this air of confidence around her as if she owned the place.

"Harry—" she began, but stopped in her tracks as though she heard Hermione calling her. Slowly she turned around, facing Hermione.

Hermione's blood froze in an instant once she recognised who was standing in front of her. It was almost like Ginny's and Harry's yelling and shouting had faded into stifled mutters in her ear, like the humming of bees. She didn't mistakenly confuse the girl with someone else because she had recognised Hermione, too.

It was _her_.

"Francine?" was all she could mutter. Her voice sounded high, she almost didn't recognise it.

This, of course, caught Ginny's and Harry's attention, and they stopped their fighting at once. "I didn't know you and Harry—" Hermione, gesturing with her hand between Harry and Francine, tried to overplay her shock with a fake surprise.

"Why?" Ginny looked confused. "Did you know about them, Hermione?"

"No, I didn't, I swear."

"She had no way of knowing about Harry and me, Ginny," Francine said.

"Oh, don't you _Ginny_ me!" Ginny snapped petulantly. "You've been sleeping with my fiancé, you fricking bitch!"

"Ginny!" Hermione said in a reproachful voice.

"What!" came Ginny's sudden retort. "How do you fucking know each other?"

"I think that can wait," Harry interjected. He pulled at Ginny's arm, "but _this_ can't. We have to talk."

He grabbed her arm, ignoring her loud protests, and dragged her towards the next room and slammed the door shut. Hermione could hear their muffled voices through the thin walls; it was almost only Harry who did the shouting.

Remembering Matthew, Hermione looked around the room, but there was no sign of him anywhere. He must have snuck out at some point during this entire debacle and Hermione hadn't even noticed. The front door was closed and his robe wasn't on the sideboard anymore where he had thrown it, a short moment ago before they were about to leave the flat.

Her eyes strayed back to the living room, meeting Francine's; those chocolate-brown eyes she once had gazed into. She suddenly remembered. And those glossy lips…Hermione closed her eyes and turned her head away. Shame and guilt overwhelmed her; with a shake of her head she tried pushing away those unsolicited thoughts about that very incident.

"Too small a world, huh?" Francine said, stepping closer. She smiled sheepishly. Hermione sensed that Francine was only overplaying her hurt feelings for Harry, who had run after Ginny, the woman he was obviously trying to fight for. Because Francine's voice trembled at the back of her throat, betraying her emotions. "I never thought we'd meet again. Especially under these circumstances."

"I need a drink," Hermione muttered, not meeting Francine's gaze. She walked to her kitchen, grabbed a glass from her cupboard and a wine bottle from her refrigerator. She had been drinking too much wine lately, just to drown her sorrows, but the damned things seemed to have learned to swim. Francine walked in and closed the door behind her.

"I didn't tell Harry, or anyone else," Francine said evenly, leaning against the door. "I know it didn't mean anything, Hermione, and I also know that it could hurt…well, a few people if they knew about it."

With a giant gulp Hermione drowned down her wine, feeling her body heat up and her mind foggy. She suddenly felt light-headed that she barely noticed that Francine had stepped behind her, so close that she could feel the other woman's breath on her neck through her hair.

Hermione twisted round, but tried to keep a safe distance. "Don't!" she warned with a threatening finger, trying to keep her voice quiet as if in fear that Harry and Ginny might hear. "Nothing happened between us, you got that? Nothing."

"I know, so relax," Francine said teasingly, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Nothing happened." Her voice did not sound at all like 'nothing' happened; if ever, it seemed like 'forbidden things' had happened. When in fact it was just a simple, chaste kiss, which they had shared a month ago, at Ginny and Harry's bridal shower, to numb their desires for the two people they were in love with.

"Exactly," Hermione said, feeling intimidated by the sudden proximity of their bodies, "Nothing happened. _It_ never happened."

Francine tilted her head to the side, staring at Hermione, examining her face.

"I didn't forget you, though," Francine said.

The scene, their once shared kiss, which Hermione had already forgotten, came flooding back in Hermione's mind. Francine was there, her red hair as vibrant as Ginny's, leaning slowly forward and then Hermione felt those lips but imagined Ginny's.

It happened a month ago, like in another lifetime, on Harry and Ginny's bridal shower, which they held at their own, immense flat. Their flat was packed with their friends, all of the Weasley brothers and their respective girlfriends, Harry's Quidditch team, and some of Ginny's colleagues.

Ginny had been acting _strange_, rather peeved towards one certain girl. This girl was Harry's beater, a member of his team, who he could presumably not have left uninvited. Ginny was upset that Harry had invited the said girl despite Ginny's request not to. They had fought throughout the party.

It was between the time when suddenly a guy, who had been flirting with Hermione since he had joined the party, had tickled Hermione playfully because she had been frowning the whole time, and Harry opening a bottle of champagne, that Ginny had burst in an uncontrolled fit of anger. Francine, of all people, had jumped enthusiastically to her feet, congratulated Harry by throwing herself around his neck, that Ginny had stormed off to their bedroom and locked herself up in it. Harry had followed her shortly after.

Ron, drunk and oblivious to the sudden shift of mood in the room, kept singing to a song he barely knew the lyrics of, together with George; seeing Ron so happy as though nothing between them had ever happened made Hermione sick to her stomach. Lavender, his new girlfriend, thankfully had decided to stay at home because she hadn't been feeling well.

"Can you get some peanuts, Hermione?" Ron had called after her.

When the music had started to throb in her head Hermione decided to disappear into the kitchen and locked it behind her. She had turned around and was surprised to see the young woman, Ginny kept avoiding the whole time, leaning with her bum against the counter and sipping wine.

"Hi," she had said. With that kind and friendly smile she had put on her face while conversing with the other guys earlier.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know someone else was here," Hermione had stammered. "I can leave if you want."

"Why should I throw you out?" she asked curtly, and held out a glass of wine to Hermione, then introduced herself, "I'm Francine, by the way. But I guess by your expression that you already know me. You must be Hermione. Harry's told me a lot about you. Would you like to have a drink with me?"

Hermione reached her hand out for the glass, muttering a quiet 'thanks' without meeting her gaze. While sipping at her glass, Francine said, quite confidentially, "Ginny hates me, doesn't she? I can sense these things, if people feel uncomfortable around me. To be honest, I didn't even want to come; Harry made me. Said I should be here. I wanted to leave earlier, but my purse and robe are in their bedroom. With Ginny," she rambled on, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"Harry's talking to her," Hermione replied without thinking. Feeling the urge to defend her best friend, she explained, "She doesn't really hate you. There were just some… misunderstandings that needed to be cleared between them. It's been like that for months. It doesn't even seem normal anymore if they _don't_ fight."

"Harry and I are friends, and I'm grateful for everything he's ever done for me," Francine said carefully. "Hopefully they aren't fighting because of me."

Hermione couldn't believe that she was having this conversation with the very person Ginny despised so much; it was like betraying Ginny's friendship. She had to leave the kitchen—and this situation—fast. She turned to the cupboards she knew so well (after all, she had been the one to organise them) saying, "Ron wanted some peanuts. I'd better not keep him waiting." She lowered her gaze to leave quietly and headed towards the door.

"Don't you believe me, Hermione?" There was a hand that had been gently placed on the small of Hermione's back.

Hermione had put her wine glass on the counter and turned around. "Hmm, excuse me?"

"I'm not after Harry."

"I know," Hermione said, throwing a fleeting glance towards the kitchen door. She didn't want Ginny to come in unexpectedly, catching them in a compromising position.

"Isn't this excruciating for you, too?" Francine started again, daring to lean closer to Hermione's face, whispering softly. Hermione smelt the wine in her breath. "Your ex boyfriend is here, but he doesn't care about you? And _she_ is here, but you can't have her because she is going to marry someone else?"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione snapped, gripping tightly the counter behind her. How did she know all this? Was it so obvious?

"I've seen it in your eyes, the way you look at her—" she said as if answering Hermione's thoughts. Placing her hands carefully on both sides of Hermione's waist, Francine looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes. Hermione was dazed; her head was starting to spin and her vision to blur. She blamed the alcohol in her blood and her anger at the world for her next action.

Hermione's eyes fluttered shut as she felt one of Francine's hands move to the back of her neck. Like losing control over her body and mind, she wrapped her arms around Francine, who resembled the true object of her affections: Ginny. Their heads leant closer towards each other as Hermione forcefully pressed her lips against those of Francine's, pouring her hurt feelings into the kiss.

Closing her eyes, she pictured Ginny's lips teasing hers, causing her stomach to swell with blissfulness and joy. She felt Ginny's hands stroking her body tenderly, causing her to feel a desire for more. It was Ginny's name she moaned when Francine tugged playfully at the bottom of her lips, sucking it lightly and then kissing her again. That was Ginny's flowery scent Hermione smelt when kissing back the very woman Ginny hated.

"This will be our secret." She heard Ginny whispering in her right ear. Hermione nodded silently before opening her eyes. But it wasn't Ginny standing in front of her.

Francine smiled at her, completely contented with herself, before leaving the kitchen.

Hermione snapped back from her memories only to find herself in the same intimate position she had been in a month ago. Francine was standing in front of her, smiling again.

"We have one thing in common, Hermione."

"And what would that be?"

"We are both probably going to lose the one we love," Francine said, sniffing. "I never meant to ruin their relationship. I never meant any of this to happen."

"Neither did I."

Hermione felt the need to keep her hands busy, so she took the wine bottle and half-filled her glass. She sipped at it nervously. "You made me believe you didn't like men. Why did you do it, though?"

"Do what?"

"You know what I am talking about," Hermione said. "You know, what happened between us a month ago. Why did you kiss me?"

"I thought it never happened," Francine chuckled, teasing her. Hermione frowned. "Oh come on, Hermione, kissing is harmless. No, I don't like girls, and I never go any further down than the waist." She let out a short giggle but immediately stopped at Hermione's obvious displeasure.

"Find it funny, do you?" Hermione snorted, taking another sip of her wine. She was very close to losing herself.

"If I remember correctly, you kissed _me_ first."

"I—I guess, I did. I might've lost myself in my emotions." Hermione stared into her wine glass, her cheeks feeling suddenly warm. She couldn't possibly have put herself in this awkward position. It just wasn't like her, losing control of a situation.

"Don't be sorry, it was my fault," Francine replied, sighing. She put Hermione's wine glass aside and took her into her arms, holding her tight. That was the third embrace Hermione had received today, how many more would come, she wondered.

Hermione returned the hug.

"You feel so good," Francine whispered into her ear.

Pulling away quickly before things start to escalate again, Hermione looked up at Francine. "Let's keep this safe distance between us," she said and drew an invisible square between them. Francine grabbed her hands as they formed the shape and pulled herself closer.

Both laughed with their hands still connected when Ginny walked into the kitchen.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," she said with a hoarse voice. Harry followed closely behind her and observed the scene with curiosity. Hermione retrieved her hands again and flinched away.

"Ginny, we were only talking."

"Seems so," Ginny said evenly, her face impassive, blank. Her eyes were red and puffy, giving the appearance that she had cried while she was talking with Harry. There was something disturbing about the picture of Ginny and Harry in the doorway: maybe it irked Hermione a bit when she eyed Harry's hand placed on Ginny's shoulder protectively.

"Have you two made a choice then?" Francine asked, before Hermione could, though the sudden coldness of her eyes showed she was just as anxious at the sight of the couple.

Hermione's heart quickened.

"Yes," Ginny said, looking up at Harry. "We've made a choice. Finally."

* * *

**(A/N: This story's prequel's called "Love bite", wanna read it? It's a one-shot. Nothing much. Check out my author's page. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I don't mind negative feedback, as long as it's honest. Any comment is very much appreciated and would certainly make my day. Oh, by the way, we're nearing the end of this story. Chapter 11 is the last chapter.)**

**NEW Ginny/Hermione fic posted "What A Wicked Game You Play". Pleeeaase check it out. :)  
**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Ahh the LAST chapter! I didn't have to revise it much since I was quite happy with it. Did I make you wait long? Not this time, right? *laughs* Be prepared for a sentimental moment between...*drumroll* Ron, and...Hermione! I thought it's important to mention since throughout my story, Ron was just this cold-hearted cheater who has treated Hermione badly.  
**

**In case you forgot what the previous chapter was about, Harry and Ginny have made a decision whether they want the wedding to go on or not. Who got the girl? Read and find out.  
**

**Disclaimer: JK. Rowling owns them all. **

* * *

**Chapter 11 – The Right Choice**

Finally, the long awaited wedding came.

He was handsome. Apparently he scrubbed up nicely when he wasn't in his Quidditch uniform. Right now, he was in a black tux and a silver vest; the perfect gentleman. His usually untamed black hair was fixed with previously unheard of quantities of potion Hermione had made for him a week ago. Even though it was an extra-strength brew, some of the stubborn strands were still sticking in all directions at the back of his head.

The magical organ played the first song, like trumpets under water, smooth and filling the entire church, it was unlike the sound of a Muggle organ. Then the bridesmaids enter in their light-purple gowns. The song then became most dramatic when the bride entered and walked up the aisle. She was beautiful; the groom's emerald eyes lightened when he saw her.

The way her curly auburn hair flowed over her shoulders beneath the sheer veil and framed her creamy blushing face with the chocolate brown eyes resembled a real princess from the Renaissance, Hermione thought, and locked eyes with the bride.

She was wearing a white gown with a laced bodice that flared out from the waistline into a full skirt that still managed to emphasise her luscious curves. Her glossy lips, the very lips Hermione had once tasted before, were forming words meant just for her, but she simply couldn't make them out. _She is happy, and she will be happy with Harry,_ she told herself over and over again.

Her tall, broad shouldered father in his silver-grey tux, escorted his only daughter to the altar, a handkerchief in his massive hand that dabbed at the beads of sweat on his forehead, and on the tears in the corner of his eyes. He was crying. It was obvious that he was struggling with his feelings between giving away his daughter and being proud of her to marry a wealthy and famous wizard.

Harry had decided to postpone the wedding another five months, giving everyone time to adapt to the situation and move on from the drama that had happened between him and Ginny. It had been a complete disaster at the beginning, and it had happened so very fast that Hermione hadn't even realised what was happening, until she found herself buying new dress-robes since she couldn't possibly wear the maid-of-honour dress Ginny had chosen for her.

The wedding took place in a church, which Harry had chosen, because of the many people that were invited. Harry had helped with the preparations and even took the time to organise, deciding that everything should be different this time round. He wanted to make a completely fresh start. Harry had shared his future plans with his new wife, and his friends on his stag night, and everyone had agreed that it _would_ be better this time.

Snapping out of her reverie, Hermione scanned the congregation behind her. Luna waved at her, sitting next to Neville and her father. Then she met Ron's eyes among the other guests. He nodded at her and lifted a corner of his lips to give her a courteous smile, then looked away quickly. At least he came to his best friend's wedding, which was a hard decision to make after his fury towards Harry for cheating on Ginny. But it only took a short explanation and a fair few bottles of Firewhisky for the two to kiss and make-up again—figuratively speaking of course.

Lavender, who was sitting beside her boyfriend, had her arm through Ron's, her free hand placed on her bulging belly. She made a rude gesture towards Hermione and kept checking that Ron wasn't staring at the other girls, or the bridesmaids, or, for that matter, anyone else but her.

Hermione knew, through personal experience, that he wouldn't stop his appreciative glances towards other girls and with Lavender's possessive nature, Hermione didn't think they would last long, especially not if their relationship was only based on sex, and not on love or even friendship. But maybe Ron had changed—after all, he was going to be a father.

He didn't look quite happy, though, like he hadn't slept for days, and he even admitted, stubborn as he was, that having two jobs, a pregnant and fussing girlfriend at home, and working part time in the joke shop cost him lots of energy. But still, he couldn't blame Hermione for not showing any sympathy for him…

Hermione felt a soft hand touching hers, and interlacing with it. Returning the squeeze, Hermione looked beside her, into the charming face of her lover.

"What are you thinking about, Hermione?"

Since Hermione was always doomed to failure when she lied, she decided to tell half the truth, "I just saw _him_ and his girlfriend." _Truth_. "I think they're a lovely couple." _Lie_, Hermione mused.

"He's not worth your attention."

"He's still a friend of mine," Hermione defended, despite the grudge she still held in her heart against Ron. She brushed a lock of hair out of her lover's face and sighed, "I know I should just move on from the past. But I'll never completely obliviate the memories that hurt the most from my mind. They make me who I am."

"I know, I was just saying…"

Hermione brushed her hand over familiar silky skin; she didn't want to argue, especially not about Ron. Leaning closer, she whispered, "Have I told you already how happy I am to have you here by my side, Ginny Weasley?"

Ginny smiled impishly. "Like a hundred times already."

They both looked at the bride now when Harry reached his hand to take Francine's, as they both turned to the vicar. After a few moments, he began…

"_Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Harry and Francine in matrimony, which is commended to be honourable among all men; and therefore – is not by any – to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly – but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly…"_

The voice became distant in Hermione's ears, when she heard Ginny mumbling, "She doesn't look so bad. I only hope she'll take good care of him. That she treats him better than I ever have."

"It wasn't just your fault, Ginny," Hermione reassured.

…_If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace._

When every guest remained still, even Ginny, while Hermione held her breath in that fifteen seconds of silence, and after the reverend continued his speech, she told Ginny, "That could be you over there," Hermione nodded towards the bride next to Harry, "wearing that wedding gown and the veil, and answering 'I do' to Harry Potter while he slides a gold ring up your finger." Was she really giving Ginny a reason to regret her choice? Hermione didn't know why she even said it, and could slap herself after her own stupid realisation.

_Do you, Harry, take this woman to be your wedded wife?_

_I do._

"Yet I didn't want all that and have chosen you," Ginny said sincerely, biting her lower lip, no longer paying attention between the vows that were being made between her ex-fiancé and the woman who had taken her place at his right-hand side . "And I've told you a thousand times that I don't regret my decision, right?"

_And do you, Francine, take this man to be your wedded husband?_

_I do._

"Yes, you did," Hermione replied, tears welling in her eyes. She smiled warmly. "Like a hundred times already."

*.*.*.*

A MONTH LATER…

"Merlin, this stupid thing is heavy and I can't even find my wand," Ginny whined, dropping a box of her belongings on the ground, next to the rest of the stuff in Hermione's hallway. "Have you seen it, Hermione?"

Hermione was turned with her back to Ginny, arranging some of the picture frames on the mantle on the sideboard, her mind seemingly far away.

"Hermione?" Ginny called, as she kicked a few of the boxes smoothly aside and finally found her wand stuck in the box she had carried. "Never mind, found it!" she said in triumph, and then rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. "Hermione," she tried again, but still no answer.

Ginny could see Hermione examining one of the snapshots intently, and she realised, it was the one of them both and Harry that had been taken in December about….almost two years ago now, when Ron had brought Lavender to the Burrow for the first time, right after Ron and Hermione's break-up.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Ginny stepped closer, trying to catch her lover's eyes. "We should put this picture away. It only haunts you with hurtful memories of the past," she said, sensing what was going on in Hermione's mind.

"No, don't please," Hermione said, snapping out of her trance. "Without this picture I would have never figured…" Hermione looked at Ginny, as a smile formed on her lips.

_What you really meant to me_, Ginny finished in her mind, while Hermione said it aloud, and took the frame and placed it back on the mantle. Ginny smiled at this and took Hermione's hand.

"But are you sure you want to see me with Harry in it?"

"I'm fine with it," Hermione replied, "are _you_ fine with it?" she asked, her brown eyes piercing Ginny's.

"I don't actually care," Ginny said with a shrug, throwing the frame a furtive look. "I'm still friends with him. And remember, we didn't break up in anger or in war. Harry and I have resolved our problems. This is what we both wanted. And he's very happy, so am I."

Hermione cupped Ginny's face and prodded her forehead playfully. Smiling, she said, "When did you become so mature? Is that really you, Ginny?"

Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and kissed her fingertip. "Silly," she giggled, and pulled Hermione closer. "Let's celebrate this day tonight. I bought a red wine, a Cabernet Sauvignon…" she purred against Hermione's lips, "…we'll have a romantic candle-light dinner…" another kiss, "…then take a hot foam bath together…" a firmer kiss, rewarding her with a soft moan from Hermione, "…while I massage your back and after that… I…" Ginny trailed off, whispering the rest into Hermione's ear.

Hermione's eyes widened in delight, as she grabbed Ginny by the waist and deepened the kiss, pulling Ginny closer. They stumbled backwards on the couch, with Hermione trying to strip off Ginny's fitted shirt. Soon Hermione was on top of Ginny, her hands roaming her lover's body, before they crawled down and unbuttoned Ginny's trousers.

A knock on the door caused them to pull apart instantly, '_as usual'_, Ginny thought and hoped it wasn't Harry again.

A familiar voice called from the hallway, "Knock, knock, is anyone at home? Hey, sis, I know you're both inside, I heard you breathing. I know a new joke, by the way," Ron said all in one breath, "how do you know there are lesbians living in a house?" He paused for barely a second before saying, "If you examine their refrigerator…there are chicks in it," he cracked up in laughter, knocking again firmly. "Did you get it? C'mon, open up!"

"Idiot," Ginny groaned, rolling her eyes. She hated his lame jokes; it was his way to deal with Ginny and Hermione's relationship. She only hoped that he'd leave if they didn't open the door.

To their shock and surprise, the door _did_ open, and Ginny searched frantically for the shirt Hermione had discarded, when a chuckling Ron walked in at the exact moment Ginny had pulled the hem of her shirt down. "Hey, you weren't answering," Ron said, throwing them both a suspicious look.

"So the best solution is entering without invitation?" Hermione snapped, the first to gain her voice. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"And stop your bloody jokes, they aren't funny at all!" Ginny turned on her brother but was unable to look him straight in the eyes; her face blushing even more than Hermione's.

"You were busy with arranging your stuff, right? And I thought I'd drop by to help," Ron offered, shrugging. Then he shifted his eyes from Hermione, who wiped her lips discreetly with the tip of her fingers, to Ginny, who threw a fiery look at her brother. "Were you doing something else then? What _were_ you doing with my bloody sister, if I may ask?" he demanded to know from Hermione.

Hermione's mouth was agape as if she hadn't expected he'd actually ask so straightforwardly; she threw Ginny a helpless look, who only sniggered and blushed furiously.

"No, actually," Hermione started, "you may not ask, Ronald."

"What we were doing is none of your business, anyway" Ginny answered instead. She got up from the couch and stood in front of Hermione, taking charge.

"I know I said I've accepted your—your girl-thing here," Ron said, waving his arm wildly, "and I don't usually mind two girl's making out, if that's what you think my problem is," he added, shrugging, then scratched his nose, "but my bloody baby sister _and_ my ex girlfriend making out? It's just not right!"

"For your information, _dear_ brother—" Ginny said coolly, with a threatening finger pointed at him, "—_your_ ex girlfriend and I have done by far more than just making out, and being the pig that you are, you most likely know what I'm talking about."

As Ron's face turned white in mortification, Ginny heard a gasp from Hermione behind her.

"Ginny, you can't—" Hermione muttered, indignant.

"What?" Ginny snapped, "I've had enough of his childishness. We're living now together, for Merlin's sake, Hermione, and I'm not a 'baby' sister any longer. He should at least realise that we're having s—" Before Ginny could finish her sentence, Hermione had clasped her hands over Ginny's mouth, laughing nervously.

Ron pressed his hands on his ears, like a child, as though it would stop the images of his little sister being anything less than virtuous and with another woman for that matter, entering his mind. "Gross! Get rid of that picture! Take it away!" he whimpered.

Ginny rolled her eyes. She scolded herself for forgetting to lock the door after carrying in the boxes, after all the excitement of finally moving in with Hermione, into their new home.

Both of them had waited for this day in eagerness; they had planned it through and had talked about it in length. They had waited until Ginny's parents – or rather, her mum – had accepted the news about them being together and had gotten used to it. And, they didn't want to give her a heart-attack, what with all the life-changing events happening all at once, not after Ginny had told her on her own wedding day six months ago, that the entire thing, including her relationship with Harry, was cancelled.

It had taken a while for everybody to accept the news: Harry marrying Francine; Ginny loving another woman, and that woman being Hermione. Ron was the worst affected, he saw Hermione, not as his ex, but as a best friend, and didn't agree with it at the beginning. Even _he_ couldn't tell whether he was protecting his little sister, or his best friend.

Hermione's parents, on the other hand, had accepted their daughter's new relationship rather easily, even though they had never expected it. They were glad that their daughter finally found peace in her heart, after all the heartbreak Hermione had been through because of Ron.

Hermione dropped onto the couch now, as Ginny awoke from her memories. "Well I'm all moved in now, so is there anything else?" she said after a moment, studying her brother.

"Mum said she wants to invite you two to the Burrow this evening," Ron answered. "There's going to be...Harry and Francine, me and Lavender will be there too, and Colbert," He carried on, counting each couple on his fingers. Colbert was Ron and Lavender's new baby boy. They hadn't gotten married: the official story was that Ron didn't have the money for a proper wedding yet, whether that, but Ginny knew it was because Lavender wasn't the right woman for him.

Ginny walked to a pale Hermione who had clutched her arms around her stomach. In contrast to Ginny's quick recovery from Harry and Francine's marriage, Hermione hadn't quite fully moved on from the pain Ron had caused her, despite the pretences she put on. She didn't love Ron anymore, but the sight of Lavender and Colbert was lasting proof of his unfaithfulness.

Ginny stooped down, to be eye-level with Hermione on the couch. "Do you want to go to the dinner? We don't have to. Mum will understand."

"Why?" Ron asked, confused, as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "What will Mum understand? She'd love to see you. You have to come."

"Shut up, Ron," Ginny snapped without looking at her brother. "Hermione?"

"Of course, we'll come," Hermione said after a moment of hesitation.

"That's great, I'll tell Mum," Ron said happily. "You okay, Hermione?"

"Give her a break, Ron. She's fine," Ginny groaned, and sighed.

"I don't think she's fine," Ron responded, shoving Ginny aside. "Could you leave me alone with her, sis? Just a moment, will you?"

Ginny hesitated, when she looked at Hermione, who gave her a reassuring nod, Ginny went to the bedroom, with her wand in hand, levitating two cardboard boxes in front of her. She was hoping her brother wouldn't start reopening old wounds.

*.*.*.*

Ron took a seat on the sofa opposite to Hermione and dragged it closer to her, closing the gap. "Just because we're not together anymore," Ron said looking into her eyes, "doesn't mean I don't care about you. 'M sorry for hurting you long time ago, y'know."

"Oh give me a break, Ronald, you're overestimating your importance to me," Hermione snorted obnoxiously, but she was shaking and hoped he wouldn't notice.

Ron sighed. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"I _have_ forgiven you," Hermione said with tears in her eyes. Just great. She was showing her weakness again. "But I will never forget."

"I'm an asshole."

"You are," Hermione agreed.

"A cheating asshole."

She nodded.

"An actuated by libido, immature, cheating asshole."

Hermione blinked at him, but chose to smile weakly instead of correcting a phrase he had obviously found in a textbook. "Yes, you are." She laughed heartedly, swatting his arm.

"But I care about you," Ron added simply, "I know, after all that happened you probably won't believe me, but I really do. I care. And seeing you hurt, reminds me everyday what a friggin' asshole I am."

"At least you have a conscience. And seemed to have extended your emotional range beyond a teaspoon," she said softly.

"I'm happy for you and Ginny," Ron said sincerely, dropping his gaze to the floor. "No matter what I said when I found it out, I'm happy that you are happy. If my sister ever hurt you, don't hesitate to tell me, and I'll thrash the hell out off of her, you understand?" he said in a serious voice, then smiled back at her too. She wondered when _he_ had become so mature.

"Do you still see that blond guy—what's his name again?" Ron asked. "Your boyfriend…"

"Matthew? He wasn't my boyfriend," Hermione denied.

Matthew had gone alone to Canada and investigated the case he and Hermione had worked on. Hermione had followed him three days later, when he had sent her an owl that he wasn't making any progress. But for the week she was there, they didn't once talk about what had happened in Hermione's flat six months ago, about her secret affair with Ginny, and with that his whirlwind relationship with Hermione was automatically ended.

"Reckon he was after you," Ron remarked, pursing his lips.

_So what_, Hermione thought, _there_ was_ another guy who liked me._ _Why keep it secret from Ron?_ "I've been together with him," Hermione said in a whisper.

"You were? But I thought…" Ron trailed off, his eyes flashing wide. "You and my damn sister…" There was something in his eyes that was disturbing Hermione. She blinked, but it was still there. "If you ever get to like men again…" he mumbled, but his expression was soft. "Would you…"

Ron didn't finish his question, when Ginny walked into the living room just in time, fists forcefully stuck to her sides. "It's time you leave, Ron," she said firmly.

"Okay, okay, fine," he said in surrender, "I'll leave you girls alone with whatever you do when you're alone together. I'll tell Mum you come, alright?"

Hermione nodded, and Ginny groaned an inaudible 'yes'.

When they heard Ron closing the door, Ginny locked it quickly with her wand. She walked to Hermione and kissed her forehead.

"Did he say anything to upset you?"

"No, he didn't," Hermione said. She grabbed Ginny by the waist again and pulled her down to her. "We have to celebrate another time, sweetheart."

"Aw…" Ginny pouted, leaning down to kiss her. "Or we'll pre-celebrate now." She whipped off her shirt again, and looked Hermione naughtily in the eyes. "We still have two hours, after all."

And with that, Hermione stripped off her clothes and with them went all her thoughts of that Lavender-hag and her spawn; of that hopeful shimmer she had discovered in Ron's eyes; of a heartbroken Matthew...

Ginny was everything she wanted. For now anyway.

* * *

**A/N: Did you notice? I was hinting at a sequel! But who would want a femslash story going 'straight'? *laughs* How did you like this chapter, though? Thanks a lot for all the kind reviews. I owe you one!**

**By the way, have you checked out my new femslash already? It's a Ginny/Hermione, Hermione/Astoria story, revolving around their school life, every day drama, lots of rumours to deal with, and friendship betrayal, and lots of yuri erm I mean femslash. :) Title: What A Wicked Game You Play. **


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